Blazin' Trails
by iheartgod175
Summary: He's the fastest sheriff in the West, with a prideful nature and a bit of a temper to boot. He's the slowest deputy around, bumbling through life in his clumsy, easygoing way. More than once they've been put through the ringer, but their friendship, while odd, is unbreakable. A short collection focusing on Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long.
1. Short 1: No One's Perfect

**A/N:** Before I start, I must thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, for giving me the idea for this story, and for showing me how to write it. You deserve to be praised! Amen.

Well, here's something I think you'll like, my fellow Hanna-Barberians! My head has been spinning with ideas for stories with Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long (who have now taken over my life as my favorite H-B characters), and last night I wrote this. Seeing as how there are virtually no stories on Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long, and knowing how my mind works, this is probably going to be a little short series featuring these two. There are going to be other H-B characters as well (including a certain fastest-shootinest cowboy and his faithful sidekick), though mostly as cameos. Ranging from sweet to silly to serious, there should be something for everyone in here, though the overarching theme is that friendship, no matter how odd or unlikely, is unbreakable-a theme that I love very much :)

Enjoy!

* * *

 **Title:** Blazin' Trails

 **Genre/Tags** : Western/Friendship/Hurt/Comfort/Angst/Humor/Romance(Droop-a-Long/OC)/Tragedy

 **Rating: T** (due to violence, darker themes and tragedy in certain chapters)

 **Full Summary:** He's the fastest sheriff in the West, with a prideful nature and an equally fast temper. He's the slowest deputy around, bumbling through life in his clumsy but easygoing way. They're total opposites at its finest, and yet they've remained the best of friends. They've had their rough patches, and more than once, their friendship has been tested to the utmost limit. But if there's one thing that can't be argued, it's that their friendship, while odd, is unbreakable. A series of vignettes focusing on Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long, ranging from sweet to silly to serious.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long, sadly; they are property of Hanna-Barbera. The only things I own are the original characters that show up in here. If I did own them, I'd have a new cartoon out :)

* * *

 **Short 1: No One's Perfect**

Droop-a-Long Coyote had only seen Ricochet Rabbit lose only a few times in his career as deputy. In fact, it was hard to put "lose" and "Ricochet" in the same sentence. Ricochet was the toughest sheriff in the West for a reason; no matter what the bad guys threw at him, no matter how much he got hurt, he would bounce right back and put them in their place. He never let anything get to him for long. He won pretty much all the time. That was who he was. That was what he did.

So when Ricochet returned to the office late that afternoon, Droop-a-Long was shocked to see the look of utter defeat on his face. It was so unlike the confident, spirited rabbit he knew that for a moment he thought he was hallucinating. He couldn't bring himself to say anything, and Ricochet didn't say anything to acknowledge his presence. He just took off his hat, set it on the coat rack, and slumped into his chair, burying his face in his hands.

"M-Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long started. He had a feeling that what he was going to ask would make the situation worse, but he had to ask anyway. "Did you get that renegade?"

Ricochet snapped up to face his deputy, his expression set into a hard glare. "If I caught 'im, Droop, would I really come back here empty-handed?" he asked. His tone was calm, but one could hear the barely restrained anger behind it. "If I caught 'im, would I have to file a report that states five people died today?"

Droop-a-Long's jaw dropped. He hadn't thought it was that bad. "N-No, Mr. Ricochet," he said, "but-"

"Then don't ask me such a stupid question, Droop-a-Long! Of course I didn't catch that renegade!" Ricochet snapped, jumping out of his chair.

"I reckon you're right upset," Droop-a-Long answered.

"Gee, Droop, what gave ya that idea?" Ricochet asked sarcastically.

"You're the one yellin' at me when I asked you a simple question!"

"You're right, Droop; it _was_ a simple question! I know I shouldn't expect more from you, given that you're not the smartest around these parts, but I still do anyway!"

"Now hold on a darn minute! I don't know what you're angry about, Mr. Ricochet, but you don't need to take your anger out on me!" Droop-a-Long said.

"You don't know!" Ricochet threw his hands into the air. "Well, that's a new one I've never heard before! Out of all the things you could possibly say, you say, 'I don't know'. Was my explanation from earlier too vague, Droop-a-Long?!"

"I would know if you would tell me, Mr. Rico-"

"Alright, fine, I'll tell you," Ricochet interrupted. "So there I was, chasin' that renegade Bomb Voyage towards the jail, when all of a sudden, his gang appeared outta nowhere. They got the drop on me, and while I was knocked out, Bomb Voyage went and blew up a bank. A dozen people are hurt, and five of them were right in the blast zone. By the time I got there, I couldn't do anything!"

The broom Droop-a-Long had been holding hit the floor. "Oh my gosh..."

"Do you know how useless I feel when I can't stop a crime like that? Do you know how guilty I feel when people die because I couldn't do anything?" Ricochet continued. His anger had mostly melted away, leaving sadness and bitterness underneath. "Everyone was lookin' at me like it was my fault...and maybe they're right. Maybe it is my fault."

"No, Mr. Ricochet-"

"I understand you're tryin' to make me feel better, Droop. But let's face it. I messed up," Ricochet said. "And I'm thinkin' the best thing to do is to quit bein' the sheriff. I don't have what it takes."

Droop-a-Long was utterly speechless. He never thought he'd hear his boss-no, his _best friend_ -say those words, ever. Ricochet wasn't one to quit on anything, and he wouldn't tolerate weakness. To see him at his weakest and saying that he was quitting, on top of that? A part of the coyote wondered if he'd stepped into the Twilight Zone.

"Mr. Ricochet, you gotta rethink this," Droop-a-Long said.

"No, Droop, my mind's made up," Ricochet said. His voice was shaky and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. He was _not_ going to cry over this. "I'll be leavin' in the mornin', Droop-a-Long. And don't bother tryin' to convince me to come back, because I ain't goin' to."

He then started to walk out the door, but that was when Droop-a-Long said, "You know, there was a person who told me that no one's perfect. We all make mistakes, but we've just gotta learn from 'em and move on, not beat ourselves up over 'em."

Ricochet suppressed a groan as he looked at Droop-a-Long. "And who told you that?"

"You did, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, "when I was appointed to be your deputy."

Ricochet's eyes widened in surprise, and he turned to face him fully. "You...you remembered that?" he asked.

"It's kinda hard to forget when you told me a hundred times," Droop-a-Long said. "But ya also told me that you'd always be my friend, that ya wouldn't get mad if I was slow, or clumsy..."

"Droop, I'm still your friend, even after all these years," Ricochet said. His ears fell. "But I shouldn't have said those things about ya, even if I was blowin' off some steam. I'm mighty sorry I insulted you back there, Droop-a-Long. I can't blame ya if you're mad at me."

"You know I never stay mad for long, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "And to be honest, I can't blame ya for bein' upset. I'd be right upset, too. But I know there's better ways to handle bein' upset."

"And I handled it wrong," Ricochet said. He sighed. "Can you forgive me, Droop-a-Long?"

"There's nothin' to forgive, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "I'm just glad you're still not talkin' about leavin'." His smile disappeared when he realized what he'd said. "Are you still plannin' on leavin'?"

"Well, I was thinkin' of it," Ricochet replied, "but I realized that I can't give up. There are more renegades to rustle up, and Bomb Voyage is one of them. Plus...I wouldn't leave my friend to protect a whole district by himself. It takes two to take on Hoop 'n Holler, after all."

"That's true," Droop-a-Long answered. He chuckled. "I figured that you'd come back, Mr. Ricochet."

"And I figured you'd say that," Ricochet replied. "Come on. Let's head on down to the saloon and get somethin' to eat. All that chasin' made me hungry."

"You sure you'll be alright?"

"I don't know for sure, Droop. But I know that if I mess up, I'll have you to help me out," he said. For the first time since he'd come back, a real smile came on his face. "Thanks a lot for your help, Droop."

"Any time, Mr. Ricochet."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **There aren't any fics with Ricochet or Droop-a-Long on the H-B archive. *sigh* It's a shame, though...**_

 _ **But yeah, this is what happens when you have a sudden brainstorm and you have to type something before you go to bed. It's probably because this week, I had an idea to write a story with Ricochet Rabbit in it, which takes place in "The Ghost of Huckleberry Hound" universe. It's not gonna be out, though, until "Have Guitar, Will Travel" is finished. I think it's kind of odd that I wanted to write a story about Ricochet and Droop-a-Long, because while I liked him enough as a kid, I've found that I've taken quite a liking to Droop-a-Long (and you can see that in this story as well). However, I promise that Ricochet and Droop-a-Long will have their own shorts to shine and they'll probably even have role reversals every so often.  
**_

 _ **As with every writer, I have different interpretations of these guys' personalities, mostly gathered from watching the Magilla Gorilla show over. So please don't be too mad if my interpretations are different from yours :)**_

 _ **My interpretation of Ricochet is that he's a bit more flawed than what the cartoon lets in on. He tends to fall prey to his pride, as he's a bit arrogant at times, and he's got a hot temper that doesn't take a lot to bring out, not to mention being just a little impulsive. For all his flaws, however, he is a genuinely nice guy who does his best to uphold the law and is a good guy all around. Just avoid his buttons. :) There are other sides of Ricochet that we'll be seeing, too.  
**_

 _ **Droop-a-Long, who was pretty much the Butt Monkey in the original series, has more going on than what the cartoon lets in on, too. Because of his slowness, he tends to be a little more observant of things, but he just keeps them to himself; plus, he's not outright stupid here, but more like a little naive. While he's quite the easy-going guy, there are more sides to Droop-a-Long that I'll be expanding on in this story.**_

 _ **Take those two personalities together, throw them in different situations, and ya get something like this. To be honest, I've never really seen them as close as Quick Draw and Baba Looey are, but the point of this is to expand on their relationship.  
**_

 _ **Next short will probably feature a nice bonding moment between the two.**_

 _ **I have a couple more one-shots that I'm gonna write: one with Hokey Wolf and Ding-a-Ling as part of a Thanksgiving special, a HuckleFlower one, an AU to "The Ghost of Huckleberry Hound", and a T.C./Trixie one. Constructive criticism is great as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	2. Short 2: Night Owls

**A/N:** Okay, so here's the second chapter of this little short story series. This short is inspired by the _100 Ways to Say I Love You_ series of prompts on Tumblr, but of course this story is all about friendshipping! Nothing much to say here, though, other than bonding fluff awaits.

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet or Droop-a-Long, folks.

* * *

 **Story 2: Night Owls**

 _Inspired by: "It's okay. I couldn't sleep, anyway."_

 _"Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me..."_

Ricochet's ears twitched at the sound of Droop-a-Long's off-key singing echoing around the office. Cracking open his eyes, he looked at his alarm clock and saw that it was 1:00 in the morning. He groaned as he pulled himself to a sitting position. This was the fourth time this week he'd been awoken in the middle of the night by his deputy's shuffling around, and though he could manage on a few hours of sleep, tonight he really needed it because they were going to a meeting in the morning.

He got up and walked out of his room, making his way downstairs to the office. Droop-a-Long was sweeping up the place, a steaming pot of coffee on the stove in the corner, and still singing "Oh Susanna". Sighing, he asked, "Don't ya think it's a bit early to do mornin' chores, Droop?"

Droop-a-Long jumped, utterly startled, and turned to face him. His green eyes were alight with surprise. "Oh, mornin', Mr. Ricochet. Did I wake you up?"

"It's hard to sleep when you're makin' a lot of noise," Ricochet said.

"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I sometimes sing to myself when I'm workin'."

Ricochet waved off the apology. "It's alright, Droop. I couldn't sleep anyway."

Droop-a-Long's face fell. "Mostly because of me, I reckon."

"Why are you up this early, anyway? Mornin' duties aren't until after seven," Ricochet asked.

"Well..." Droop-a-Long scratched his chin in embarrassment. "I can't sleep. I'm kinda like a night owl, as you'd probably say, Mr. Ricochet."

"Really?" Ricochet's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"Yeah. When I was growin' up, I used to stay up late to keep an eye out for my pa. He'd work for really late hours, so it was up to me to keep things clean and hand him a cup o' coffee. At first, I couldn't stay up for any longer than ten o'clock, but I eventually got used to stayin' up late."

"Ah, I see," Ricochet said. "I used to be the same when I was younger, Droop. I had so much energy, I wouldn't be able to sleep for hours. Had to get that stamped out of me when I trained to be a sheriff."

"Even then, you're still full of energy, Mr. Ricochet. I can barely keep up with ya," Droop-a-Long pointed out. "'sides...sometimes when I sleep, I think of home, and realize how much I miss my folks and my friends."

Ricochet walked over to Droop-a-Long, and put an arm above his waist. Due to his diminutive size, it was the closest thing to an arm around the back as he could manage. "I understand, Droop. The first few years I was a sheriff, I was pretty homesick," he said. "I slowly got over it, though, when I sent letters to my parents and let 'em know I was okay. Plus, chattin' with a few o' my friends helped out, too."

"I wish I could do the same thing," Droop-a-Long said. "My folks move from place to place, so I never know where they are. And I never really had any friends..."

"You'll find 'em, Droop. I know you will. Plus, ya do have a friend ta talk to," Ricochet replied.

"Who's that?"

"Whaddya mean 'who's that'? I'm talkin' 'bout me, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet said. "I'm your friend, ain't I?"

"You're my best friend, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long replied. "But-"

"But nothin', Droop. If there's anythin' that's troublin' ya, I'll help ya out...even if it's somethin' like helpin' ya feel less lonely," Ricochet said. He looked up at Droop-a-Long, who stared down at him in surprise. "And even if it means stayin' up all night."

"Aw...thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, smiling at last. "That really means a lot to me."

"Anytime, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet replied, patting his deputy on the back. "Now, since we're both wide awake now, how's about we sit by the fireplace an' drink some coffee? It'll probably help ya take your mind off home."

Droop-a-Long smiled down at the sheriff. "One cup of coffee comin' right up."

* * *

 _An hour later...  
_

"...an' that's how my Granddaddy Ricochet saved that thar little lady from bein' sent off, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, leaning back in his chair, his feet crossed and propped up on the table. "She was so grateful to 'im that she gave 'im loads o' kisses. Chocolate kisses, ta be precise. Though I bet there were regular ones involved, too." He chuckled.

Droop-a-Long, who was sitting in the chair opposite of him, sat at the edge of his seat, eyes wide with interest, as they had been for the last ten minutes. Ricochet wasn't even sure if his deputy had blinked the whole time. "Wow...that's such a wonderful story, Mr. Ricochet," he said at last.

"Yeah, an' ya know that gal he saved? She's my grandma," Ricochet said. He smiled as he sank into his chair. "He told me that he'd never loved another gal since. Same with my daddy, too."

"Aww, that's jus' sweet," Droop-a-Long sighed. Upon seeing Ricochet's surprised expression, Droop-a-Long gave a small laugh. "Sorry. I kinda have a soft spot fer romantic endin's..."

Ricochet chuckled. "So did a friend o' mine. He was always tearin' up at a love story," he said. "But more importantly, my Granddaddy Ricochet learned that day that he wanted ta be a sheriff from then on out. So ya could say that he started the family tradition of the sons bein' sheriffs."

"Wow..." Droop-a-Long sighed again. "Sure wish my family was like that, Mr. Ricochet. My family's always been kinda odd."

"Really, now? How come?"

"Well, all the older sons in the family have done all sortsa things. My grandpa made clocks, my dad ran a store for a lil' while, and my older brother Hop-a-Long's a cook," Droop-a-Long said.

"Sounds ta me like they're more hands-on folks," Ricochet noted.

"Yeah, an' I'm not too good with my hands, Mr. Ricochet. I mess up anythin' I touch," Droop-a-Long replied. "'bout the only thing I can do decently is cook, an' that's only when I concentrate real hard. I almost gave ya food poisonin' the last time I made somethin'..."

Ricochet couldn't help but shiver at that. "Yeah, I do remember that," he said. Upon seeing the coyote's dejected expression, he said, "But Droop, jus' cause you're not much of a hands-on guy doesn't mean that you're bad at everythin'."

"How do ya know, Mr. Ricochet? I've only been workin' with ya for a good few months," Droop-a-Long said.

"You can pick up a lot 'bout folks in a few months, Droop. For what ya lack in hands-on skills, ya make up for it with your senses. You're very observant, even more so than I am. You're able ta pick up more sounds, smells and sights than I can...an' that's somethin' I normally don't admit," Ricochet said. "You're more of a visual person."

"Even so, my family's kinda borin' when ya line them up next to yours, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Your family's...eh, what's the word I'm lookin' fer...uh, oh, now I remember. Unique."

"An' so's yours, Droop," Ricochet said. "We're all unique. If we was all the same, then it'd be a right borin' world. Sure, most o' my family's got a thing with speed an' a love of upholdin' the law. But from what I've heard, most o' yours likes to trade things, and most of all...they like ta serve people." He paused upon seeing Droop-a-Long's confused expression. "I'm not sayin' that y'all are servants or anythin'. Ya can serve in many ways, Droop-a-Long, such as what your granddaddy did with clocks, or what your daddy an' your brother did by supplyin' people with food."

"And how am I servin' people?"

"By helpin' uphold the law, Droop. So ya see, your family's not borin' or odd 'cause each of 'em did somethin' different. Your family's unique. An' so are you," Ricochet said. "Ya shouldn't forget that."

Droop-a-Long stared at him for a few moments more, utter shock on his face. Then, a warm smile spread across his face. "Thanks, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "I appreciate that a lot."

"You're welcome, Droopy. I'm glad I could make ya feel better," Ricochet said, smiling back. "Now that I've told ya a bit 'bout my family, I wonder what sorta family stories you've got."

"Shucks, I've got a lot of stories," Droop-a-Long said. "One o' my favorite memories was a story my grandpa told me 'bout how he met my grandma. It's really sweet, too."

"Oh, really? I don't mind a lil' heartwarmin' story every now an' then," Ricochet said. He picked up his mug, only to find that it was empty. "Say, do we still have coffee in the pot, Droop-a-Long?"

"I think so. If not I'll have ta make another batch," Droop-a-Long said, getting up to go to the stove. "An' while I'm up, I'll get some snacks, too."

"Oh, and Droop-a-Long?"

Droop-a-Long stopped to turn around. "Yes, Mr. Ricochet?"

"When ya make the coffee this time, don' make it too strong," Ricochet said. "I almost chipped my tooth off!"

Droop-a-Long gave an embarrassed smile. "I'll make note o' that, Mr. Ricochet..."

* * *

 _Many hours later..._

Ricochet awoke with a groan, pulling at his nightshirt in order to get some air flowing. It was sweltering in the office, and his nightshirt clung to his body, matted with sweat. The first thing he'd noticed was that Droop-a-Long wasn't in his chair. The second thing he noticed was the large clock above his desk that currently chimed two o'clock.

"Oh, no..." He groaned again, this time in irritation. He'd missed the meeting due to staying up all night with Droop-a-Long. He'd thought they'd fall asleep within an hour or two, but they'd stayed up for about four hours, sharing family stories and laughs, among other things. By the time Droop-a-Long had finally fallen asleep, it was five in the morning. Ricochet had fallen asleep thirty minutes later, remembering the times he'd had with his best friends.

He got out of his chair and stretched, feeling the bones in his spine crack into place. This action caused something to fall off his lap and crash to the floor, and he looked down at his feet. A blanket had fallen around his ankles, as well as a metal plate with some carrot coffee cake, now in crumbs on the floor. Picking up the blanket and brushing off the crumbs, he folded it, placed it on the chair, and then picked up the metal plate. As he was walking over to his desk while brushing off his fur, heading for the broom, he noticed that there was a note on the desk. He picked up the note, and immediately encountered Droop-a-Long's swirly handwriting.

 _Went ahead to the meeting, Mr. Ricochet. I'll be back later this afternoon._

 _Droop-a-Long_

No sooner had he finished reading that than Ricochet heard the door open. "Howdy, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "Sorry I left ya behind. You looked so peaceful that I didn't wanna wake ya up."

"I just got up right before you came in, so it's no big deal." Ricochet turned around to face Droop-a-Long. "When did you wake up, Droop?"

"Around noon, I reckon. I slept like a baby the whole time," Droop-a-Long replied. "Granted, I didn't understand everythin' they were sayin' at that sheriff's meetin', but I did grab a few papers from the buildin' that they said you're supposed to look at."

"Thanks, Droop. I appreciate this," Ricochet answered, taking the papers.

"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet. Say, how's about we stay up late again?" Droop-a-Long said.

"Much as I'd like to, Droop, I'd rather not sleep the whole day away again," Ricochet said. "But maybe sometime in the future, alright?"

"That's fine with me, Sheriff.."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I don't know why, but I definitely see Droop-a-Long as a night owl. Ricochet's more of an early bird, due to his nature, although I also think that he prefers napping.**_

 _ **I expanded this short to show a bit more of both Ricochet's and Droop-a-Long's families. Ricochet's family was mentioned in the episode "Mostly Ghostly", where his grandfather Ricochet is mentioned as being the one who started the family tradition of upholding the law. So, I added a little bit more detail to this character, who I think could grow to be more interesting in his own right. As for Droop-a-Long, I had to make up his family from scratch, since they didn't give a lot of hints to his family other than his adorable little nephew Tag-a-Long. I figured Droop-a-Long had to have a brother, so I made up Hop-a-Long. His story's on my profile page.**_

 _ **Showing how Ricochet and Droop-a-Long bond over family stories is pretty nice, though. And I liked writing Ricochet in this chapter,showing that he is a genuinely nice person who does care for others. He's not nearly as empathetic as Droop, but he doesn't have a heart of stone, either.**_

 _ **The next short will probably be a silly little thing that's based off of the Fake Friends vs. Real Friends thing. Constructive criticism is great as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	3. Short 3: Real Homemade

**A/N:** The ideas just keep pouring in for this short story series. Here's the third chapter, inspired by a silly little commercial that I've seen in the past. However, it still turns out heartwarming in the end.

 **Disclaimer:** Would I really be on here if I did own Ricochet or Droop-a-Long?

* * *

 **Story 3: Real Homemade**

 _Inspired by: Fake Friends vs. Real Friends_

The sound of a pan crashing to the floor, followed by loud shushing noises, caused Ricochet to jump out of his sleep. At the sound of more metal hitting the floor, he jumped out of bed, grabbed his gun from off his nightstand and crept over to the door. This wasn't the first time someone attempted to rob his office in the middle of the night.

A third clang, and Droop-a-Long yelled, "YEEOWW! My poor foot!"

That did it for Ricochet then. Those outlaws could hurt him any time of the week, but nobody was going to lay a finger on Droop-a-Long, not if he had anything to say about it. He kicked open the door and swung over the landing, landing on the ground with a hard slap. All chaos stopped when he straightened up and leveled his gun at the intruders. "Alright, drop whatever you've got and nobody gets hurt!" he demanded.

Everyone in the room, including Droop-a-Long, screamed in terror upon seeing him. Ricochet was about to say something else when he noticed that the other people weren't dressed in outlaw clothing, or carried weapons on them. He also noticed that they were all wearing aprons and were holding whisks and mixing bowls.

"Shucks, I told ya you'd wake him up with all that noise," Droop-a-Long said, looking at one of the "intruders". He looked annoyed, and such an expression was rare on the coyote's face. "Now ya've gone and ruined the whole thing!"

"Sorry, Mr. Droop-a-Long," the man said. "The bowl slipped out of my hands."

"What the-how...I don't...what?" Ricochet was so shocked that he couldn't form a complete sentence. Droop-a-Long was working together with a group of intruders who appeared to be chefs? After a few more seconds of staring in stunned silence, he said, "Droop, what in the blue blazes are you doin'?!"

"Well, I guess since you're up now, I'll explain," Droop-a-Long replied.

"And what exactly do you need to explain, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet demanded.

"Well, ya know how you love those homemade carrot biscuits from that diner across the way, but ya never eat 'em 'cause you're out fightin' crime?" Droop-a-Long started.

"Yeah, I do love those carrot cake biscuits," Ricochet said, his face taking on a dreamy expression.

"Well, I figured that instead of havin' to hurry and get breakfast from that place, I'd bring the folks over to the office to make 'em for ya," Droop-a-Long replied. "Then they'd be real homemade biscuits."

"Is this true?" Ricochet asked, turning to the chefs.

The man that Droop-a-Long had reprimanded nodded. "Yeah. He was nice enough to ask us instead of doing what those outlaws did last month," he said.

"What happened that time?" Droop-a-Long asked, cocking his head in confusion.

"You should remember, Droop. They kidnapped the owners in order to make food for them," Ricochet clarified.

"Ah, right. I plum forgot 'bout that one."

"But still...this is kinda odd, even for you, Droop. Why'd ya go to all this trouble to make biscuits for me?" Ricochet said.

"Well, you were talkin' about them so much this mornin', I figured you probably wanted some," he said. "And I'm not too good at bakin' things, remember?"

Ricochet had to suppress a shudder at that, recalling his deputy's attempt to make a carrot cake for his birthday. "Unfortunately, yes," he said. "So...you planned this all out as a surprise for me?"

"Yeah...but I reckon you're none too happy about it right now. I did wake you up in the middle of the night," Droop-a-Long assumed. His ears lowered in shame.

Ricochet looked at him in surprise. "Are ya kiddin', Droop? This has got to be the nicest thing anybody's ever done for me," he said.

"Y-Ya really mean it?"

"O' course I do. I admit, this is a surprise I never expected, but I ain't about ta throw your hard work out the window," Ricochet said. He gave a smile to his deputy. "Thanks, Droop-a-Long. And thanks to you folks, as well."

"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, and everyone else gave similar statements. "But next time, I think I'll just get 'em for ya instead o' bringin' the chefs here in the middle of the night."

"I agree with that sentiment, Droop," Ricochet agreed, and he and Droop-a-Long laughed.

"So, with that said," the baker said, "you wanna eat one of these biscuits while they're still hot?"

Ricochet smiled. "I thought you'd never ask!" He turned to Droop-a-Long. "Do you have hot coffee, too, Droop?"

Droop-a-Long nodded. "Sure do, Mr. Ricochet. You go on 'n eat yer fill."

"How's 'bout we all eat?" Ricochet said. "I've got a good appetite, but even I can't eat all these here biscuits by myself!"

"You've got that right, Sheriff," one of the bakers said. He pulled out a series of plates. "Well, what're we standin' around here for? The food's gettin' cold!"

With that, everyone made their way to the table, ready to eat and drink their fill long into the night.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Friends will bring you that one food you've been craving for days. Real friends will bring the actual chefs to your house to make them for you. :D**_

 _ **The commercial that inspired this was a Hardee's biscuit commercial about how they make homemade biscuits...just not in people's homes. For some reason this took longer than I thought it would, despite it being the shortest of the two stories.**_

 _ **Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think in your reviews!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	4. Short 4: Breaker of Barriers

**A/N:** Here is chapter four of _Blazin' Trails_! This one's the first serious short that we have here, and I'm pretty sure it's gonna be the first of many.

This story's is about how breaking down barriers and seeing people not for who they are on the outside, but who they are on the inside. It's also going to be a bit longer than it was before due to the pacing of the story. Gosh, I wish this would've been an episode on Ricochet Rabbit...

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, okay?

* * *

 **Story 4: Breaker of Barriers**

As a rabbit, the coyote was a natural enemy for Ricochet.

He'd only heard stories of them from his father, and had never really encountered them up close, but he knew that coyotes were dangerous. Conniving, sneaky and charming, they used their wits to lure their prey over to them. And by the time they figured out what was going on, it was too late. So many residents of Ricochet's town had disappeared due to those monsters. His father had a personal grudge against them as one of them had almost attacked his mother when he was a boy.

Growing up, Ricochet had been told that coyotes were to be avoided at all costs, lest he wanted to disappear like so many of his neighbors. And so, that was why he'd never trusted the coyotes; he had to be on his toes whenever he was around them, for those creatures could make a quick meal out of him any moment.

Six years after becoming the town sheriff, he'd gone through three deputies. The first one, a smooth-talking parrot named Pablo, had left his post in order to get married in New Mexico. The second one was a headstrong ox named Arnold, who he'd had to fire because of his unorthodox interrogation methods.

His third deputy was a timid little sheep named Sherman. Ricochet had liked Sherman, but Sherman hadn't liked his job as deputy, in no part due to his fear of blood, and the fact that Ricochet tended to leave him behind often. Eventually, Sherman had quit because the stress was too much for him, leaving Ricochet without a deputy again.

He was told that he'd have to pick a deputy from the nearest town, Shadybrook, as neither Hoop 'n Holler nor Glover Gulch had people eligible for the job. Said nearest town had a heavy population of coyotes. To say that he was not happy about this was an understatement.

"Ricochet, it takes two to take on this town," the mayor said when he'd gone to complain about it. "Besides, I don't think every coyote in the West is a single-minded carnivore."

"I'm pretty sure most of 'em are," Ricochet retorted.

"You don't know that for sure. Who knows, you might meet someone you like over there," the mayor said.

Ricochet still wasn't too happy about it, but he couldn't find a counter for that. _He's got a point,_ he mused. _The last thing I need is a deputy that I can't stand._

"Alright," Ricochet relented. "But don't expect me to come back with one of _them_ as my deputy."

The mayor smirked as Ricochet left. "Hmm...I doubt that."

* * *

Walking through Shadybrook's town square was torture. Ricochet could feel the prying eyes of the coyotes boring into his soul. Occasionally, he would glare back at them, showing that he was no innocent, frightful rabbit that they could mess with. A few blocks into town, the population started to thin out, and he found himself within the human district, which was mixed with a few other animals. He started to breathe a little easier.

Right when he was about to head to the nearest saloon, someone crashed into him. Being much smaller than most of the people around, he was knocked down flat on his back.

"Shuckins, I'm a might sorry about that," someone said. The voice was a little squeaky and cracked in some places, and carried a slow Western drawl.

"That's alright. But watch where you're goin', will ya?" Ricochet picked himself up and looked up into the eyes of the person who had bumped into him. He got a nasty surprise.

Standing front of him was a pink-pelted coyote. Ricochet couldn't see his eyes because they were covered by his large green cowboy hat that drooped a little in the back. Unlike most of the other coyotes he'd seen today, he was very lanky, having little muscular definition, and appeared to be slouching even though he was leaning on nothing at all. His mouth curled into a small smile.

"So, I reckon you must new here, huh?" he asked. "It's rare to see rabbits 'round these parts."

"Gee, I wonder why," Ricochet replied, keeping his guard up.

"Well, mostly 'cause of all the coyotes around," the coyote said, "'cludin' me."

"If you try to lay a paw on me, I'll fill you with so many holes, you'll be Swiss cheese," Ricochet ground out.

"Hey, I ain't gonna eat'cha!" the coyote said. "I couldn't kill other people to save my life."

"I'm glad to hear that," Ricochet said. "Now, if you don't mind, I'm headin' out to the local saloon."

As he turned around to walk away, the coyote said, "So, you're a sheriff, huh? Is there some kinda trouble in your town?"

"Mind your own business," Ricochet snapped, and walked off.

Since he was farther away, he didn't see the coyote's mouth curl downwards into a sad frown. "Shucks...I was jus' tryin' ta be nice..."

"There's no need to be nice to rabbits, Droop-a-Long." Another coyote, this one with brown fur and wearing black and orange, looked up from his paper. "Especially someone like that."

"Well, I wanted to help him out somehow, seein' as everyone else was givin' him mean glares," Droop-a-Long said.

"When will you get it through your head that not everyone's gonna be nice to ya?" the coyote snapped. "Bein' nice to the wrong people can get ya killed. Now come on. If you don't sweep off the porch of the saloon, the owners are gonna get mad at ya."

"Yes, sir." Droop-a-Long sighed. "I sure wish that wasn't true..."

* * *

"I'd like a dry carrot cocktail, please," Ricochet said.

"Comin' up. Kinda rare to see a rabbit in this area," the bartender replied while grabbing the necessary ingredients.

Ricochet remembered what the coyote who'd bumped into him had said. "Yeah, I think I've gotten that."

"What brings you here, sheriff?" the bartender started, eyeing his badge.

"I'm lookin' for a deputy to work with me back in Hoop 'n Holler," Ricochet answered.

"Hoop 'n Holler, huh? That makes sense. That place is a hive for crime," the bartender said, mixing together the ingredients for the carrot cocktail. "There wasn't anybody who could be a deputy back in your town, huh?"

"Nope. The mayor told me to find someone here," he said. "That's gonna be kinda difficult."

The bartender poured the cocktail in its glass and handed it to Ricochet. "'Cause of the coyotes, I reckon?"

"Yeah. I bet you can understand why I'm not lookin' forward to findin' a deputy from here," Ricochet answered. He paused to drink some of his cocktail.

"Well, not every coyote around here is a menace," the bartender said. "There's a fella around here that goes out of his trouble to help people. Everyone calls 'im Droop-a-Long. If ya met him, it wouldn't be hard to see why. He's not the brightest out of the coyote population, but he's definitely the most selfless."

"I find that hard to believe. All my life, I've never heard the words 'coyote' and 'selfless' in the same sentence," Ricochet said, drinking some more of his cocktail.

"Well, you'll find it hard to put 'Droop' and 'selfish' in the same sentence," the bartender said. "However, if you're still set on findin' someone who's not a coyote, there are some rabbits around here. Most of 'em live farther out, though, and they tend to keep to themselves. You'd need a guide to show ya the way."

Ricochet felt the corners of his mouth turn upwards into a smile. Now that was the news he'd been waiting to hear. "Thanks for tellin' me. I was right ready to give up," he said.

"You may not want to head out around nightfall. There's been some crime goin' around that town recently," the bartender replied.

"I'll keep that in mind. Thank goodness I brought enough ammo," Ricochet answered. He then pulled out some dollars and paid for his drink. "Thanks again, sir."

"No problem, sheriff. Good luck."

As Ricochet was leaving the saloon, he saw the pink-pelted coyote from earlier sweeping the steps, humming aloud tunelessly. The sound made Ricochet want to cover his ears. Taking a look around, he realized that the only way he could get any answers from these people was to ask them directly. Sighing, he walked towards the coyote he'd bumped into earlier.

He cleared his throat, and then the coyote turned around. He looked surprised to see him.

"Hey, you're that little rabbit from earlier," he said. "I hope you enjoy yer stay in this town."

"Oh, I don't intend on stayin'," Ricochet replied. "I'm lookin' for someone to be my deputy, and the place I've gotta get to is farther out in these parts. I'd like to get there as soon as possible."

"Are...are you talkin' about headin' to Carrot Top Taverns?" The coyote's mouth turned into a small frown. "That's pushin' it a might much, sir. That town's dangerous."

"And how do you know?" Ricochet asked.

"I used to be a guide to that place," he said. "One time, I got chased off by some gang that calls themselves the Dead Eyes. I've never been back since."

"It's that bad?"

"They've gotta replace guards twice a week," the coyote replied. "You're writin' your own will by goin' out there."

"Do you take me for a coward?" Ricochet ordered. "I ain't afraid of any gangs."

"Of course I don't take ya for one. Ya have to be mighty courageous to be a sheriff," Droop-a-Long said. "I'm jus' warnin' ya so you can be safe."

"As much as I...appreciate your concern, I'm more than capable of holdin' my own," he said. "All I need is a set of directions to get there, and I'll be fine."

The coyote didn't look convinced, but one look at Ricochet's eyes made up his mind. "Well, if you say so," he said. "The town's about fifty miles from here. Horse thieves will take your steed lickety split, so be careful if you're takin' a horse with ya. And I recommend ya have a good bit of weapons, too."

"I have everythin' I need, thanks," Ricochet answered. "Thanks, uh..."

"Oh, it's Droop-a-Long," he said. "Droop-a-Long Coyote."

 _So, he's the Droop-a-Long that the Bartender was talkin' about,_ Ricochet replied. "Well, I'm much obliged to ya. But I'll make it out there on my own, thank you."

"But you can't," Droop-a-Long said. "If you go out there by yourself, you could get hurt."

"If I take you with me, will you stop your fussin'?" Ricochet snapped.

"Sure thing, Mr. Sheriff, sir," Droop-a-Long said. "I'll escort ya as far as the border of the town."

"And how long's it gonna take you to get ready?"

"Well, I have a couple more hours to go on my shift, so after that, I'll be able to take you there," Droop-a-Long answered.

Ricochet had to suppress a groan at that. He didn't need the concern from anybody, especially from a slowpoke coyote, but it seemed he'd have to trust him for now. He only hoped that what the bartender told him was true.

"Alright. I'll meet you back here in a few hours."

* * *

Four hours later, Ricochet was standing outside of the saloon, tapping his foot impatiently. By that time, it was sundown, and the sky was rapidly darkening. The night life started to creep out, and Ricochet had to admit, he was getting a little worried.

"Enjoyin' the view, Mr. Sheriff?"

Ricochet was glad he had looked over first, for he would've shot Droop-a-Long in a heartbeat. The pink-pelted coyote lumbered along in the darkness, coming to a stop a few feet away from him.

"What took ya so long?" he asked.

"Well, work ran a little later than I thought, and then I had to stop by to get a couple more weapons," Droop-a-Long answered. "Sorry that it took so long."

"Just make sure it doesn't happen again," Ricochet said. Not there would be a next time, because after tonight he was never going to see Droop-a-Long again. "We'd better get goin'. It's gettin' dark out."

"I agree, Mr. Sheriff," he said. As he handed Ricochet some of his extra weapons, he cocked his head at the small rabbit. "You got a name, Mr. Sheriff?"

"That doesn't matter much, does it?"

"Well, I'd like to remember people's names, especially if we get into any trouble."

Ricochet sighed. "It's Ricochet. Ricochet Rabbit," he said.

"Shuck, that's a mighty funny name."

"And I suppose 'Droop-a-Long' is the most creative name of all time."

"Well, people call me Droop-a-Long 'cause I tend to lumber along wherever I go. How come they call you Ricochet, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet smirked slightly. "You'll find out if we get into any trouble."

* * *

They didn't get far into their destination before they both picked up trouble. Halfway to the town, Droop-a-Long stopped Ricochet in the middle of the path so abruptly that he was forced to stop.

"What are you doin', Droop-a-Long? We're nowhere near-"

"I smell 'em from here," Droop-a-Long answered. He looked around, shining his lantern around the bleak desert. "They're waitin' for an ambush."

"How can you tell?" Ricochet asked.

"A coyote's nose never fails, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet doubted that, but that was when he heard it-the sound of an arrow being pulled taut. Adrenaline taking over, he turned towards the coyote and tackled him to the ground just as an arrow flew overhead. More arrows flew overhead, some of them nearly hitting their marks.

"We've gotta get outta here!" Droop-a-Long shouted, but the rest of his sentence was drowned out by the sound of gunfire. He wanted to scramble to safety, but Ricochet had a strong grip on his upper arms and he couldn't move if he tried.

"Stay down!" Ricochet said. "I'll find an openin' soon enough. And then I'll let 'em have it."

"Be careful, Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long warned.

"I will be," Ricochet answered, still keeping his head down as bullets and arrows sailed overhead.

When the coast was clear, he turned towards the darkness, and with a twirling of his right foot, he shot off like a bullet, becoming a white and black blur. The force of the winds that followed almost dragged Droop-a-Long with him. The sheriff bounced off of two cacti before slamming into a bulky rabbit who was attempting to take aim at Droop-a-Long, and the outlaw hit the ground with a grunt. Ricochet didn't stop there, and he was soon rebounding off of a rock and into another group of outlaws. Shouts and cries filled the air as the outlaws went down like bowling pins.

"So, that's why he's called Ricochet," Droop-a-Long mused, watching this in awe.

As he was watching, one of the outlaws from earlier took aim at him from the shadows. The gun fired before Droop-a-Long could even move, and the bullet shot off his hat, and sent it pinwheeling through the air. Droop-a-Long's eyes widened.

"Holy moly, they're everywhere!" he gasped. "M-Mr. Ricochet!"

Ricochet screeched to a stop, kicking up dust as he did so. "What is it, Droop-a-Long?! I'm a little busy-"

"MR. RICOCHET, BEHIND YOU!" Droop-a-Long shouted.

As surprising as it was to say, Ricochet Rabbit was too slow. An outlaw grabbed him from behind, and as he was struggling to move, sharp cold steel grazed the right side of his neck, sending white hot pain coursing through him. By the time the outlaw had sent him flying, his vision had already blacked out. He hit the ground with a weak groan and remained still.

"Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long rushed forwards, jumping on top of the small rabbit in order to shield him from the bullets and knives that continued to fly. He saw the flash of silver in Ricochet's holster, and grabbed the gun. He noticed that the chamber was manufactured differently than most guns, but that became the least of his concerns as the outlaws were ganging up on him fast. Jumping up, he positioned himself in front of the unconscious sheriff. He stood his ground as the outlaws, all of them tough looking rabbits and humans, emerged from the shadows.

"D-Don't y'all come any closer!" he said, weakly raising his gun arm, which was shaking.

"Hey, it's that guide from a couple of months ago!" One of the rabbits, who was covered in black fur and was three feet taller than Ricochet, snickered. "We can take him on!"

"Yeah, he can join his dead pal, too!" a man said, and they all laughed as they started to come closer. Droop-a-Long backed up, and he almost stumbled over Ricochet. He looked down at the small rabbit, who still remained on the ground face first, motionless, his eyes shut tight and the cut in his neck dripping with blood.

Dead. The mere thought that Ricochet was dead because of these people made Droop-a-Long's blood boil with anger. His hand trembled even more, but this time not out of fear. The outlaws laughed even more at this.

"Aw, what's the matter? Are you gonna go home cryin' to Mama?" one man taunted.

"With his pink fur, he looks like a mama's-"

Nobody was prepared for what happened next. With a fast hand, Droop-a-Long took aim and opened fire at each of the men. The bullets that launched from the gun's barrel skidded to a stop in front of the men before opening up to reveal a pair of metal arms with boxing gloves. Before anybody could move, the arms landed deadly blows to their faces, punching them with enough force to send them flying back several feet. To Droop-a-Long's surprise, the bullets gave chase, the mechanical arms cracking their knuckles as they did so. The outlaws took off, holding their bruised faces as they ran into the darkness, screaming in terror.

When he was certain that they were gone, Droop-a-Long turned towards Ricochet and knelt on the ground, turning him over. He pressed his two fingers against the his throat, and could have cried with relief when he felt a pulse. It was weak, though, and he knew he had to hurry if he was going to save his life. Untying his neckerchief, he wrapped it around Ricochet's neck to staunch the bleeding, and then he picked him up and walked back towards town. He was dazed, still not believing what he had just done-or more importantly, what he had just seen.

"What kind of sheriff is he, anyway?" he muttered. He looked down at Ricochet, sighing. "No matter. The sooner I get him to the doc's, the better."

* * *

"So, how long do ya reckon...?" For some reason, Droop-a-Long found that he couldn't finish the sentence.

"How long will he be in here?" the doctor finished for him. He looked over at Ricochet, who was lying in bed. Droop-a-Long's neckerchief had been exchanged for bandages that went from the base of his neck to his chin. "A couple of weeks, I bet. He's either the luckiest rabbit alive, or the most stubborn."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "I'd reckon he's lucky. His guns have bullets that have boxin' gloves in 'em. They made short work of them outlaws."

The doctor looked at him quizzically. "Boxing gloves? In bullets?"

"I used the gun myself, Doc. They took off after those bullets punched 'em," Droop-a-Long said. "I've never seen a gun like his before."

"Guess he made it himself. You don't get guns like those anywhere in these parts," the doctor said.

"So...what do I do now?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"Well, I guess the only thing you can do now is wait for him to wake up," the doctor said. "Now, I reckon you'd better get home, Droop-a-Long. You know how your boss-"

"No." Droop-a-Long's reply was firm. "I'm stayin' here 'til he wakes up."

"But...you told me how he treated you." The doctor stared at him in surprise. "And your boss will fire you."

"I know. But I want him to know jus' who saved his life tonight," Droop-a-Long said. "If he doesn't wake up today, I'll come back 'til he does."

The doctor started at him, utterly surprised. He knew Droop-a-Long just as everyone else did in town, and he had never known him to be this adamant about anything. But he saw the fire in that half-lidded gaze, and he knew that there was no point in trying to argue with the coyote.

"Alright, Droop. Take a spare seat over there. You're gonna be in for a long wait."

* * *

Pain was the first thing that Ricochet felt when he woke up. Groaning, he pried open his eyelids and almost immediately closed them because of the blinding sunlight that entered his eyes. Through that brief first glimpse, he caught sight of wooden walls, as well as a man in a white suit and who appeared to be wearing a stethoscope around his neck. He blinked, trying to get the burning pain out of his eyes. It took a little under a minute for him to see clearer.

He also felt coolness under him. Looking at his surroundings, he assumed that he was in the town's hospital. The disinfectant that filled his nostrils confirmed it, and he noticed that there were a few other patients in the room as well, also stretched out on beds and being checked up on by a few nurses. The memories of the ambush flooded his mind, and for a split second, his mind was flooded with panic.

How long had it been since he'd been attacked? It could have been two or three days. _Hoop 'n Holler must've already found another sheriff by now_ , he thought. _The mayor probably thought somethin' happened to me..._

Just then the door opened, and the doctor looked up from one of his patients to address whoever had opened the door. "Oh, Droop-a-Long, you're here early," he said. "I thought you were getting off later tonight."

"I was s'pposed to, but my boss was nice enough to let me leave early so I can check up on the sheriff."

Ricochet was surprised by this news. Droop-a-Long was still around? He had thought that the coyote had been captured by the outlaws, or killed as he almost had been. He had to admit, he was interested in learning how in the world he survived against all of those outlaws.

"Shucks, I told you he'd wake up today!" Droop-a-Long's face filled Ricochet's in a matter of seconds. "Welcome back, Mr. Ricochet. For a moment, I thought you were a goner."

Ricochet couldn't help but smile. "I've been through worse," he croaked out before coughing.

"Oh, ya shouldn't talk while you've still got those bandages on ya," Droop-a-Long said. "It's the doctor's orders, not mine." He sighed, and then took off his hat, revealing a worried pair of green eyes.

"You...you have _eyes_?!" Ricochet sputtered. "I thought you were blind!"

Droop-a-Long shrugged. "I get that a lot. But I've always had eyes, Mr. Ricochet. This here hat that my ma made for me jus' falls over my eyes. I can see through it well enough, though."

"Oh...sorry, I-I didn't mean to make ya feel bad..."

"Shucks, it's nothin'. Are ya feelin' alright, Mr. Ricochet?"

"No, not really. My neck really hurts," he said. "Then again, that's to be expected, since I got slashed."

"Yeah..." Droop-a-Long's ears folded down slightly. "I feel like I'm responsible for ya bein' in here. If I had warned ya sooner, you would've had your deputy by now and you would've left."

"That's true," Ricochet said. His plans had been compromised after all. "But I don't think it was your fault. You were able to smell 'em out when I couldn't hear any of 'em until it was too late." He managed a weak derisive laugh. "I guess that's what I deserve for rushin' into a situation."

"Not like I can blame ya. I mean, you're a rabbit in a town that's mostly full of coyotes. If I was you, I'd think twice before steppin' foot into this town," Droop-a-Long replied. "To be honest, I'm thinkin' of leavin' this place."

"You are, eh?"

"Yeah. I haven't been anywhere other than Carrot Top Taverns. And you saw how that went. Thing is, I don' know if I can even get another job. I'm jus' too slow ta do things. I've been dreamin' that I could be a real sheriff like you, Mr. Ricochet. But..." Here, Droop-a-Long gave his own derisive chuckle. "I'm silly to think that'll happen, ain't I?"

"That ain't silly. In fact, the only thing that's silly is you thinkin' that won't happen," Ricochet said.

Droop-a-Long stared at him in shock. "S-Sir, I..."

"Look, Droop-a-Long, I've been told all my life that I would never be a sheriff. They told me I was too small, that I would never stand out among the men and other people who were sheriffs," he said. "And ya know what I did?"

"What did ya do, Mr. Ricochet?"

"I proved 'em wrong. My small size means I can run much faster than any man in the West. My wits keep me on top of whatever trick they're plannin'. And my tinkerin' with guns allowed me to do all sorts of darin' captures," Ricochet said. "In time, I did manage to stand out among the other sheriffs."

"Shucks, that's mighty nice to know, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "But...do you think the same thing will happen to me?"

"I'm sure it will," he said. "If someone like me can be a sheriff, I'm pretty sure you can, too."

"Thanks a bunch, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, smiling. Then he cocked his head to the side. "How come you've had a change of attitude?"

"Whaddya mean?"

"Well, three days ago, you were sourer than week-old milk. Now, you're givin' me advice. I'm not tryin' to sound rude or nothin'; I jus' wanna know."

"Three days?" Ricochet stared at him in surprise. "Gosh, I'm surprised I'm not gone by now."

"That's because I was changin' your bandages, Mr. Ricochet, and makin' sure the wound was clean," Droop-a-Long said. "That, and I stopped the bleedin' after I chased off them outlaws."

"You mean...you saved my life?" Ricochet asked.

"Yeah. I grabbed your gun and fired at those outlaws after they slit your throat. They got roughed up by 'em real bad," Droop-a-Long answered. "They had boxin' gloves and everythin'! It was like watchin' a live boxin' match!"

"That's my Sock 'Em Revolver," Ricochet answered. "It took me months to modify that thing to make it work right."

"Some people were tryin' to steal it, so I had to bury it under your pillow when the doc wasn't lookin'."

"Guns aren't allowed in a hospital, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long's mouth curled into a smirk. "I know that."

Ricochet couldn't help but smile. "You're a sneaky one, Droop-a-Long," he said.

"You're one to talk about sneaky, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Puttin' boxin' gloves in bullets is real clever."

"I've gotta admit, you're pretty observant."

The doctor came over to Droop-a-Long then. "Droop-a-Long, I'll have to examine Ricochet now. After that, he's gotta get some rest if he's gonna recover."

"Oh, right. I plum forgot about visitin' hours endin' soon," Droop-a-Long said. He then turned to Ricochet. "Well, I'll have to leave ya, Mr. Ricochet. Don't need to tire you out with all my ramblin'."

"You weren't tirin' me out at all, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "In fact, I feel so energized that I don't feel like sleepin'."

"Trust me, you'll feel like sleeping in a few hours," the doctor replied.

Droop-a-Long placed his hat on his head, pausing to adjust it slightly. "Well, I'm off, fellers. Have a good evenin'," he said.

"Wait a moment, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet called out, slightly louder than necessary.

Droop-a-Long came closer. "What is it, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet pulled out his arm from under the covers and extended it to him. "Thanks. Thanks for savin' my life."

Droop-a-Long stared at his hand for a few seconds, as if not believing what he was seeing. Then a smile spread across his face as he looked at Ricochet and grasped his hand and part of his forearm with his large paw.

"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "I wouldn't have left ya out there alone."

After letting go of Ricochet's hand, he nodded goodbyes to the sheriff and the doctor, and then left the room. As soon as he closed the door, the doctor turned towards Ricochet.

"I hadn't figured that Droop-a-Long was so...different from the coyotes I've heard about," Ricochet said.

"Heh, I reckon he's grown on ya. He does on everybody, after all," the doctor said. As he pulled out his items to examine Ricochet, he asked, "You're still gonna look for a deputy after you get out, right?"

"Actually," Ricochet answered, "I reckon I know just who would be perfect as my deputy..."

* * *

 _Four weeks later..._

"Droop, I can't believe you're finally going to leave town!"

"Yeah! So, you're gonna be a deputy, huh? Sounds excitin'."

"After years of lumberin' around here, you need some excitement."

These words and more were the only things that Droop-a-Long heard after he got the letter in the mail. It had been a week since Ricochet Rabbit, the sheriff of Hoop 'n Holler, had been completely healed of his wounds and had to set back off to town to assure the mayor that he wasn't dead. Despite spending only three weeks in the town, Ricochet and Droop-a-Long had become inseparable friends. Ricochet had taught Droop-a-Long about how to use guns (which was still a work in progress), while Droop-a-Long had taught him how to be more observant of his surroundings. When they weren't helping each other, they spent the day drinking coffee, playing card games, and talking nonstop.

Their friendship was the talk of the town, as it ought to be in a town where such things rarely happened. Some people had thought something seedier was going on, but both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long firmly reassured that their friendship was genuine, and would defend it from naysayers.

Ricochet's departure was the saddest day of Droop-a-Long's life, as Ricochet was the first best friend he'd made in years. And even though he probably would never admit it, Ricochet was just as sad to leave his newfound friend. Here was a coyote who had saved his life when he was at his most stubborn, who had reached out to him in kindness and concern when nobody else would, who had proven him wrong about all coyotes being mindless monsters...and now he had to leave.

But it was then that he remembered that their separation was only temporary. He still promised to keep in touch with letters, and had added, with a little smile, that he would get his first letter from him soon.

A week had passed, and Droop-a-Long was starting to settle back into the routine of town life when his mother had gotten a letter that had sent her screaming for joy. It took a long time for him to get the letter to see what she was so happy about. What he'd read had rendered him speechless. In fact, he'd had to read it five times to make sure he'd understood everything.

The letter that had come in was for him, sent by the mayor of Hoop 'n Holler, and it said that he was going to be appointed as Ricochet's new deputy.

He hadn't known what to think at that. On one hand, he was overjoyed as he would finally leave town and take his first steps of being a real sheriff. He'd also be able to work alongside his new friend and rustle up criminals. But on the other hand, he was worried. He'd never had any experience in being a deputy, and he was extremely clumsy and slow. What if he couldn't keep up with Ricochet? What if he was fired for a mistake, no matter how small?

That was before he had read the back of the letter, which was written in blocky handwriting. It was a letter from Ricochet, who had apparently taken a loop around and attached his letter on the back of the official statement.

 _Hey, Droop,_

 _I know you're wondering why I didn't use another sheet of paper, or just send you another letter. Well, I'm kinda short on paper, so I decided to just scribble down a note on the back of the official statement._ _I know you must be bursting with excitement, Droop-a-Long...though to be honest, I don't quite see you doing that. And I bet you're surprised because you told me before that I already had a deputy picked out. I did, and you were the first person that came to mind; I just didn't want to tell you, since you'd probably try to refuse. If you think I'm doing this out of pity, I'm gonna tell you that you're wrong, Droop. I understood how hard you were working, but I also thought about the type of deputy I'd have. To me, a deputy has to be faithful, loyal and never afraid to speak his mind. He should also be just as brave as the sheriff he's working with, and he's kind to everyone he meets, but firm when it comes to the law._

 _The reason I chose you, Droop, is because you showed all of those qualities during the three weeks I was in Shadybrook. You had every right to leave me for dead after the way I treated you, but you didn't. You had every right to be mean to me, but you didn't. When I was rude, you were kind. When I insisted on going alone, you insisted on going with me. When the enemy came around, you showed your courage by saving us both. When I was hurt, you took me back to town and got a doctor. And when the doctor told you to go home for the night, you said you'd stay to make sure I was alright. You even came back day after day, even after I woke up, to check on me._

 _Nobody else ever did that for me, and I grew up in a town full of rabbits like me. I realized, sitting in that room, that I was wrong before about coyotes and how they act. You proved that everybody, even natural enemies, can be kind. Which reminds me, I forgot to say sorry for how I treated you before. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. Nobody deserves to._

 _Oh, and one last thing before I go: no matter what anybody says, you don't have to be perfect to be a deputy. You're gonna make mistakes. I've made mistakes. But the most important thing is we learn from them and we move on, and do better the next time around._

 _See you in town in a week, Droop. I'll be waiting for ya._

 _Your pal,_

 _Ricochet_

Droop-a-Long had to admit, he'd gotten teary after reading that letter. It was so touching to know that his friend cared, and that he had chosen him of all people to be his deputy. Apparently, Ricochet had seen something in him that had made him choose Droop-a-Long instead of a human or a rabbit.

He couldn't help but chuckle at this. He, a slow moving, clumsy, and forgetful coyote, was going to be a deputy to a fast-paced, prideful, and hot-headed rabbit. By all rights, it was truly an "opposites attract" friendship. By all rights, they should've hated each other. But instead, they'd found good friends in each other, regardless of their outside appearance.

And to be honest, it was much better than the alternative.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Took me forever to write this. I actually had a different version of the ending, in which Ricochet actually tells Droop-a-Long flat out that he was going to be his deputy, but this was what I was led to do. Besides, the letter that Ricochet wrote as a whole was really nice.**_ _ **I would imagine that Ricochet would be pretty wary of coyotes because he's a rabbit, and coyotes prey on them (I hope I got that right...some of H-B's funny animal stars tend to have animals that would be natural enemies in the wild; Snooper and Blabber, Breezly and Sneezly and Ricochet and Droop-a-Long, as seen in the story). And yeah, Droop's a little more observant than he is in the TV show, but I imagined that he would be somewhat like that due to his slowness. I just hope I didn't make Ricochet look like a jerk. ^^"**_

 _ **I got the whole story about Ricochet's deputies from an episode where he says Droop-a-Long's his favorite deputy. That got my head turning about how long Ricochet served as sheriff, as well as who were his previous deputies. Sadly, they don't have an episode on how Ricochet and Droop met, but that's what fanfics are there for!**_

 _ **There really needs to be some friendship prompts on Tumblr. I love the OTP prompts and all, but there's really not much to go off of those when I want to write friendship stories. If anybody wants to write a prompt based on this, I would be honored and humbled, and would highly encourage you to do so!**_

 _ **The next short story will be something a little more humorous in order to lighten up the mood left by this story. It'll also have something to do with romance. I won't spoil, but I'll tell you that it isn't between Ricochet and Droop-a-Long!**_

 _ **Constructive criticism is welcome! I hope you had a happy Thanksgiving!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	5. Short 5: Rapid Romance

**A/N:** Here's the fifth chapter of _Blazin' Trails_ , folks! I hope you've been enjoying this set of stories so far! This one's more comedic than the first few shorts, and like I said before, there's romance involved, and with the most unlikely of candidates. I hope that you'll enjoy it~

Oh, and for trivia reference, this short's title is taken from an actual episode of _Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long_.

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet or Droop-a-Long...sigh.

* * *

 **Story 5: Rapid Romance**

"Here's your coffee, Sheriff," Droop-a-Long said, pushing a cup of coffee on Ricochet's desk.

"Hmm? Oh, thank you, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said without looking up at him. He was engrossed in reading a letter that his brother had sent him. "Oh, an' by the way, someone's sent a letter for ya."

He was grateful then that he was wearing his hat, or else Ricochet would've seen his eyes widen in shock. "Who's it from?"

"Don't know. The person didn't write their name on it," Ricochet said. Still reading his letter, he used one hand to rummage through the letters. He pulled out a plain white one and handed it to Droop-a-Long. "Reckon it might be personal or a scam."

After taking the letter from Ricochet, Droop-a-Long opened the letter by breaking the seal on the back. Pulling it open, he encountered beautiful, swirling cursive. He felt a smile tug on his face, as he knew just who'd written to him.

 _My dear Droop-a-Long,_

 _I've just received your last letter; sorry I wasn't able to answer for the last few weeks. I caught the flu and I didn't have the energy to write for a long time. I nearly freaked out when my mother wanted to know about the letter you sent me. It took a lot of convincing, but she didn't open the letter and read it aloud (which is what she always does when she receives mail). It's a good thing as well; that picture you sent me would've revealed our secret relationship to everyone!_

 _And speaking of that picture, you and your nephew, Tag-a-Long, look so adorable together! I've also noticed that Ricochet was there as well; give him my regards, if you can, but just remember to not reveal too much about me._

 _I miss you a lot, Droopy. It's been a good few months since I've left Oregon due to Father's business. Oh, if only I could bring you to meet him. He would have no trouble with you. It's my mother that I'm worried about. She'd disown me if I brought you here. So, in order to answer your question from your last letter, I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little longer to visit me. Or, when I'm up to it, I'll sneak away and make my way back to see you. If my mother has a problem with it, she can bring me back herself._

 _I look forward to reading your next letter-and seeing more pictures._

 _Love,_

 _Denise_

Droop-a-Long folded the letter with a dreamy sigh, feeling light off his feet at reading this new letter. "I'm glad to hear that," he said.

"What're you glad to hear, Droop?" Ricochet finally looked up from his own pile of letters to address his deputy.

"Oh, I jus' got a letter from someone special, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered dreamily.

"Someone special, eh?" Ricochet repeated, a sly smirk on his face. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you've got yourself a sweetheart, Droop-a-Long."

"Yeah. She's the most wonderful girl I've ever met," he said. "Shucks, I feel like a teenager again."

"Okay, no need to get moony, Droop," Ricochet replied, making a face. "So, who is the lucky lady?"

Droop-a-Long's happy mood was gone in a flash. "Y-You really wanna know, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Of course I wanna know. You seem like you're really in love with her," Ricochet answered. Upon seeing his deputy's face, he frowned. "She's not any trouble, is she?"

Droop-a-Long balked. "I can't believe you'd say that about her, Mr. Ricochet!"

This definitely surprised Ricochet, as Droop-a-Long never got this defensive over anybody. "Well, if she's not any trouble, and she doesn't have a record, who is she then?"

Droop-a-Long gulped. He'd been dreading to tell Ricochet this for months. He knew that sooner or later the sheriff would get curious and attempt to pry answers out of him. And with Ricochet's inquisitive nature, Droop-a-Long couldn't help but feel as though he were in the hot seat.

"Droop-a-Long..." Ricochet cocked his head quizzically at his deputy. "Is everythin' alright?"

"Y-Yeah...sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I was jus' hit by nerves, that's all," Droop-a-Long replied.

"What are you nervous about?" Ricochet asked, frowning.

"Um...Mr. Ricochet...does the name 'Denise Falconeri' ring any bells?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"Of course it does. She was my former girlfrien-" Ricochet's eyes widened in shock as he realized just what Droop-a-Long was saying. He stared at Droop-a-Long for a long moment, and the coyote started to back out of the room.

"Uh...I'd better take care of the mornin' chores, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said nervously, and quickly backed out of the door.

No sooner had he gotten on the porch than Ricochet yelled: "OH, NO YOU DON'T! DROOP-A-LONG COYOTE, GET BACK IN HERE! YOU'VE GOT SOME EXPLAININ' TO DO!"

That day, all of Hoop 'n Holler was surprised to learn just how fast Droop-a-Long could run.

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

"Now, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said calmly, drinking some coffee, "I believe you've got some explainin' to do."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Of course, Mr. Ricochet."

"So, when did you and my former girlfriend start seein' each other?"

"It was after we caught Sam Jose," Droop-a-Long answered. "I helped her out with a couple of packages while I was makin' my way back to the office, she invited me to dinner afterwards to repay me, and well...me and her took a likin' to each other. O'course, when we first started seein' each other, we had to sneak away. Her mother don't like coyotes much."

"Oh, really?" Ricochet replied. "That must've been difficult to deal with."

"It sure was. But that didn't bother us none. It was actually kind of nice, sneakin' out to meet each other under the stars."

"So that's why you were gone in the middle of the night."

"Yeah. But then she had to move to California for her dad's job, and her ma wanted her to go. Since then, we've been in touch through letter."

"Well, isn't that nice?" Ricochet grumbled, dumping a huge scoop of sugar into his coffee.

"Why do ya say that, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Because she left me for someone else."

"That's funny."

Ricochet turned to glare at Droop-a-Long. "You really think it is?"

"Not funny as in laugh out loud funny. I meant funny as in, 'That's strange' funny. She told me that you two were supposed to get married," Droop-a-Long replied. "But you left her at the altar, Mr. Ricochet, to chase after some outlaw. And you never came back."

"Now when did I-oh. _Oh_ ," Ricochet said, and winced when he remembered that incident. "Shucks, I must've been the worst rabbit in the West to her after that."

"You were," Droop-a-Long pointed out. Upon getting another glare from the sheriff, he added feebly, "B-But she forgave ya later, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet sighed. "I still can't believe you hid this from me, Droop-a-Long. We tell each other just about everything!"

"Well, I was goin' to. I figured me and her were jus' gonna be friends. But when things got serious, we decided to keep the truth from everyone."

"Includin' me?" Ricochet asked.

"Yeah, includin' you. It's not that I don't trust ya, Mr. Ricochet. I was afraid how you were gonna act, knowin' how you get about your girls and all..."

"I should leave you tied up in a corner, Droop, for all this sneakin' around and keepin' secrets from me. But seein' as you're happy with her, and she's happy with you...I can't get too angry at ya," Ricochet answered. "'sides, I'd rather not make her mad at me again. And I know I can trust her with you."

"Shucks, thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

"Now, this goes without sayin', Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, "but if you do anythin' to hurt her, I'm gonna bury you fifty feet under. And that's after I skin you alive. Is that clear?"

"Crystal clear, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

"Good." Ricochet paused to drink the rest of his coffee. "I'm glad we understand each other."

"Yeah...so, um, now that we do," Droop-a-Long started, "can ya untie me now? I reckon the patrons are startin' to think I'm a criminal."

Ricochet turned around, saw the customers of the diner looking at him, and then turned back to his tied up deputy with a sheepish smile. "Sure thing, Droop. But I really had no other option but to use a lasso to stop ya."

"I never thought I'd run faster than Ricochet Rabbit," Droop-a-Long chuckled.

"...You got lucky 'cause you had a head start."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I had a blast writing this one. Just goes to show that you don't keep things like this from Ricochet, Droop. :D I may introduce Denise into this collection later on, depending on how long I keep this going.**_

 _ **This was inspired by a friendship prompt on Tumblr that said: "We've been through thick and thin, but now I've slept with your ex. But it's cool since you were the one who left her at the altar, right?" Well, I couldn't see Droop-a-Long doing that, so I decided to have him have a relationship that later turns into a long-distance one, but he keeps it from his best friend.**_

 _ **Oh, and Tag-a-Long is Droop-a-Long's nephew from "Cactus Ruckus". When I first saw a screenshot of that episode with Ricochet and Tag-a-Long, I thought Tag was an age-reduced Droop-a-Long since they have the same clothes and everything. But seriously, he's too adorable for words!**_

 _ **Next short may be another comedic fluffy one. Constructive criticism is welcome!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	6. Short 6: I'll Keep Ya Warm

**A/N:** Chapter 6 of Blazin' Trails is here! Nothing much to say, other than WAFFiness awaits. Oh, and it's inspired by another 100 Ways to Say I Love You prompt, but as I said, the only shipping in this story is friendship. Well, other than my Droop-a-Long/OC pair.

 **Disclaimer:** *holds up hands in surrender in front of lawyers* I don't own these people, I swear!

* * *

 **Story 6: I'll Keep Ya Warm**

 _Inspired by: "You're warm."_

Ricochet groaned as he looked out the window. Already, the skies were becoming cloudy, and he could see the first few wisps of snow start to fly in through the howling winds. Many of the residents of Hoop 'n Holler were scrambling to get inside their homes before the storm got worse.

"So, they weren't kiddin' about a snowstorm comin' in," he said. Ricochet turned to see Droop-a-Long pouring coffee into two metal mugs. "Well, looks like we're gonna have to bear it, Droop. The snowstorm's supposed to get worse."

Droop-a-Long let out a groan. "Shucks, I don't think we have a lot of firewood to keep ourselves warm," he said, turning to the measly logs of wood that sat near the fireplace.

"I thought you had gotten enough wood!"

"Well, you said that it wouldn't snow, Mr. Ricochet. You even bet your lucky rabbit's foot on it," Droop-a-Long pointed out.

"Oh, for the love of-" Ricochet rubbed his face with his paw in frustration. "...well, it looks like we're gonna have to make do with what we have."

"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I didn't mean for this to happen," Droop-a-Long said sadly.

"Shucks, Droop-a-Long, you're not entirely to blame. I shoulda listened to the warnin's that were goin' around," Ricochet replied.

"But what if the wood burns up, or the fire goes out, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long answered. "You've told me that you're none too fond of cold weather."

"Let's hope that it doesn't get to that, Droop," Ricochet answered. "Now, come on. We'd better sit around the fire while we still can. It's gonna get right nippy soon enough."

"You take the chair closest to the fire, Mr. Ricochet. I'll take the other one," Droop-a-Long said, bringing over a cup to Ricochet.

Ricochet picked up his spoon and stared in shock as the coffee stuck to it like toffee. "Thanks, Droop. That's mighty considerate of ya," he said. _Can't say much about the coffee, though..._

* * *

A few hours later, both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long had dozed off by the fireplace, sleeping in opposite chairs. But Ricochet had a feeling that something was wrong when he awoke to a dreadful chill. He pried open his eyes and saw that the whole office was dark. To his growing panic, the fire had gone out in the fireplace.

 _Oh, great,_ he thought. _I should've had a back-up plan or somethin'. We'll freeze to death in here!  
_

He heard a loud snore come from Droop-a-Long, and he almost chuckled. "Droop-a-Long can sleep through jus' about anythin'," he said. The wind that howled outside brought a draft through the cracks in the wall, and he shivered. "B-But I sure can't..."

There was a loud snort, and Droop-a-Long mumbled, "What were ya sayin', Mr. Ricochet?"

"N-Nothin', Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, trying to control his shivers. "I didn't mean to wake ya. You head on back to sleep."

"Shucks, the fire's gone out," Droop-a-Long said. "No wonder I felt a little cold."

"S-S-So did I," Ricochet replied. "G-Great, it's gettin' so cold in here that I-I'm chatterin'. It's too dangerous to go out and search for firewood."

"Well, then, I'll keep ya warm, Mr. Ricochet. After all, a deputy's gotta help the sheriff." Droop-a-Long's feet slapped the ground as he got out of the chair. "And I don't want ya to freeze."

Ricochet tensed. Having grown up in a house with many older siblings, he knew that 'keeping people warm' meant sleeping in a giant pile. He hated it, what with how he would always have a dislodged shoulder or a foot in his face. But with Droop-a-Long's large size and clumsiness, the coyote could end up accidentally crushing him.

"Wait just a moment, Droop-a-Long," he started, backing into the chair.

"Don't worry, Mr. Ricochet. I'm not gonna do anythin' crazy. You can jus' sleep next to me in the chair and wrap yourself up in a blanket," Droop-a-Long answered.

Ricochet sighed, relieved to hear that. "Well, when ya put it that way, I guess it doesn't sound too bad," he said. He picked up his pillow and got down from his chair. "But if you try to hold me in your sleep, you'll be sleepin' on the floor, Droop."

"Got it, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

Ricochet waited for Droop-a-Long to get settled in his large rocking chair before he joined him, setting up his pillow so he'd be propped up. Droop-a-Long draped the covers over himself and Ricochet, and then he yawned.

"Good night, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

"Goodnight, Droop," Ricochet replied. No sooner had he settled into the covers than Droop-a-Long started snoring again.

Ricochet had to admit that Droop-a-Long was extremely warm, to the point where he was pretty much a living heater. How was the coyote so warm, especially in this weather? Sighing, he moved a little closer to his deputy in an attempt to get some more warmth. He was starting to close his eyes when Droop-a-Long suddenly shifted his arm and draped it around Ricochet, pressing him close to his side. Ricochet sighed, but he didn't bother tossing him on the floor like he said he would earlier. His eyes drooped closed again, and he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Droop-a-Long awoke to both freezing cold and fluffy warmth. He looked out the window, and saw some snow laying on the ground. "Shucks, it's been a while since I've seen desert snow," he remarked. "Hey, Mr. Ricochet, you oughta-"

He stopped right there when he turned to see Ricochet. Rather than sitting propped up on the pillow like he had planned to, Ricochet was curled up next to Droop-a-Long, his short arms wrapped around the coyote's waist and snoring. His cowboy hat had fallen off and rested on Droop-a-Long's lap, and he smiled contentedly in his sleep, his whiskers twitching occasionally.

Droop-a-Long had to stifle a chuckle at this. Ricochet looked so adorable that he was half-tempted to pet him behind the ears, although he thought twice about that. The sheriff was sensitive about people touching his head, and if he discovered his deputy petting him, Droop-a-Long was going to deal with far more than a foul-tempered Ricochet.

"Mr. Ricochet? Time to wake up," he said, gently nudging the sheriff.

Ricochet's response was to grumble and bury himself deeper in Droop-a-Long's fur. "Is it important, Droop?" he groaned.

"I wanted ya to see the snow," Droop-a-Long answered.

"That's not important, Droop-a-Long. 'sides, I hate snow."

Ricochet's flimsy excuse made Droop-a-Long snicker. "I reckon you're right comfortable, Mr. Ricochet," he teased.

One eye cracked open and glared up at him. "I ain't _that_ comfortable, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet snarled.

"Says the person who's all snug as a bug next to-OW!" Droop-a-Long rubbed the spot on his upper arm where Ricochet had punched him. "Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I was jus' havin' fun with ya."

"If you tell anybody about this, I'm gonna deny it," Ricochet said, moving away from Droop-a-Long and scooping up his cowboy hat.

"Oh, I won't tell," Droop-a-Long promised.

"Good." Ricochet grumbled as he got out of the chair. "I can't believe I did that, in my sleep no less..."

The opportunity was too good to pass up. Biting back another snicker, Droop-a-Long said, "You know, you should try bein' cute a little more often, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet's bristled expression was priceless. "...I shoulda tossed you on the floor."

Droop-a-Long couldn't help but burst into laughter.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Mischievous Droop-a-Long is fun Droop-a-Long. And bristled Ricochet is best Ricochet...for a while, at least.  
**_

 _ **I think I wrote this short for the sole excuse of having a sleeping Ricochet. It was more adorable in my head than what came out on paper. Then again, sleeping rabbits are adorable. And seeing as how Ricochet's a rabbit- *bricked***_

 _ **Next short will be another silly one, though one that's a little less fluffy and a lot more funny. Constructive criticism is welcome~**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	7. Short 7: Breakfast Bedlam

**A/N:** Chapter 7 of this little anthology is once again lighthearted. Granted, it won't be warm and fluffy and full of adorable Ricochet, but it's got some humor.

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, people.

* * *

 **Story 7: Breakfast Bedlam**

Upon hearing a loud, elephant-like sneeze come from Ricochet's room, Droop-a-Long mused, "Yep, he's not goin' anywhere for a week." He then continued to mix the ingredients he'd gathered in a large mixing bowl, humming tunelessly.

Yesterday, Ricochet had been sneezing a lot and developing a nasty cough, as well as tiring out a lot faster than he normally did. When Droop-a-Long had asked if he was alright, Ricochet had told him not to worry about it and that he'd be better in the morning. Although Droop-a-Long was worried about his friend, he knew that there were times where he should let the rabbit have his way.

Now he felt a little guilty that he had listened. His fever had confirmed his worst fears: the sheriff had caught a cold, possibly from that last outlaw they'd captured. He wouldn't be going anywhere for a week, possibly two. And knowing Ricochet, he would not like being fussed over while he was sick.

This week wasn't going to be easy, that was certain.

He added the chopped carrots into the brown mixture, and upon taking another look at the recipe, he added in a pinch of salt into the mixture. "I reckon Mr. Ricochet's gonna like this here breakfast cake," he said. He turned on the stove, and was about to search for a pan to pour the cake in when he heard Ricochet croak from upstairs.

"Droop-a-Long? Are ya down there?" he shouted.

"I'll be right up, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long yelled back. He then looked at the stove and then saw the frying pan hanging on the wall. "It'll cook much faster if I cook it in a fryin' pan." He turned on the eye, put in a little dab of oil, and poured in most of the cake mixture.

"Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet shouted.

"I'm-a comin'!" Droop-a-Long set the bowl on the table and wiped his hands on his apron before heading upstairs. He opened the door to Ricochet's room, pausing to come in quietly. "You needed somethin', Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet sat propped up in bed, his sheets covered with tissues and a half-eaten bowl of soup on the nightstand. His eyes were a bit red, a sign that he hadn't slept much last night. "Yeah. I'd like my paperwork from downstairs," he said.

"You need your rest, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "Ya won't get better if you're workin' as usual."

Ricochet frowned, and then he cleared his throat. "How can I when there are outlaws to outsmart, renegades to rustle and-"

 _BOOM!_

Both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long froze upon hearing the explosion. Droop-a-Long turned to face the stairs. "And things are explodin' downstairs?" he finished.

He had no time to even move before Ricochet shot past him in a white blur, the force dragging him downstairs. He fell facefirst on the ground, and something sticky met his muzzle. A quick sample with his tongue revealed that it was the cake batter he'd made earlier that morning.

"Uh-oh," he groaned.

 _"DROOP-A-LONG!"_ Ricochet's roar could've been heard from another state. He turned to face Droop-a-Long with an angry expression on his face, and pointed to the walls, floor and stove, all of which were covered with sticky, half-cooked cake batter. "What is the meanin' of this?!"

"W-Well, I-"

"I can't even spend a day in peace without worryin' about you tryin' to get us killed! What were ya thinkin', leavin' a pan full of batter on the stove?! What kind of batter is this anyway?"

"It...it was cake batter, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I reckon I put in a bit too much bakin' powder."

"You don't bake cake in a fryin' pan, Droop!" Ricochet slapped himself in the forehead at this. "Ugh, I would choose the wrong time to get sick..."

Droop-a-Long felt his hopes sink, and his ears drooped downwards. "Shucks, I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet...I-I was just tryin' to surprise ya," he said. "It was supposed to be a breakfast cake."

Ricochet looked ready to yell some more, but he stopped upon hearing what Droop-a-Long was saying. "You were tryin' to surprise me?" he asked.

"Well, you ate a lot of puddin' and donuts the last time you were sick, so I figured that you would like a cake this time 'round," Droop-a-Long answered. "But the last time, I let the cake burn in the oven. So I was gonna cook it like a pancake...and then..."

Ricochet sighed upon seeing his deputy's sorrowful expression. "Aw, don't get too upset, Droop," he said. "It was mighty thoughtful of ya to try to make another cake for me. But..."

"You'd rather not have the place explode?" Droop-a-Long finished.

"Exactly. How's about you get me those homemade carrot cake biscuits from the diner across town?" Ricochet said. "We can share 'em for breakfast."

"I guess that'll be nice," Droop-a-Long said.

"Good. But before ya go, there's one thing you need to do." Ricochet started to head towards the other room in the office.

"And what's that, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet returned a few moments later with a bucket and a brush. "You're gonna clean this up," he said, fixing his deputy with a stern glare.

Droop-a-Long sighed as he took the bucket and brush. "Right away, Mr. Ricochet."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ ***awards Droop-a-Long with a gold star* You tried, Droop-a-Long. You screwed up, but you tried. :)**_

 _ **Next short might be inspired by a friendship prompt on tumblr. This one might either be AU or a serious one. I haven't quite figured it out yet.**_

 _ **Constructive criticism is great, and thanks brave kid for reading this story! It really means a lot!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	8. Short 8: Taking the Bullet

**A/N:** Here's chapter 8 of _Blazin' Trails_. This one's going to be more serious, and so will the next short, as both of them are directly inspired by prompts on Tumblr.

 **Disclaimer:** *points at other chapters for disclaimers*

* * *

 **Story 8: Taking the Bullet**

 _Inspired by:_  
 _Ok, so maybe I'm a little jealous that you have more money than I do, you're more popular than I am, you're more talented and slightly better looking than me but that doesn't change the fact that I would still take a bullet for you._

"Oh, Mr. Ricochet, can I have your autograph?"

"Mr. Ricochet, would you mind takin' a picture with my son? He absolutely adores you!"

"I reckon you're the best sheriff in the whole wild West, Sheriff Ricochet!"

Droop-a-Long sipped quietly from his punch glass as he stood outside on the porch, listening to the chatter wafting from inside with a shrug of his shoulders. It was like this every time they went to a social gathering. All Ricochet had to do was walk into a room and he'd be the life of the party.

It wasn't like he was doing it to show off, although Droop-a-Long could tell that Ricochet liked the attention. And to be fair, he did deserve it. People respected him for his fierce devotion to catching criminals and upholding the law. Kids admired him for his speed and his trick revolvers. Droop-a-Long had lost count of the kids that had told him they wanted to be like Ricochet when they grew up.

And then there were the girls. So many letters poured in for Ricochet from the ladies that Droop-a-Long had to have a separate room for them, and even he knew that wouldn't be big enough to hold all the letters. He didn't know what exactly they saw in him, but he wasn't going to tell Ricochet that.

As for Droop-a-Long...well, he didn't really do much to stand out in a crowd. Nobody admired him, or respected him. And he didn't have throngs of female admirers after him, although he didn't really mind that last part. He already had Denise, and that was all he needed.

He sighed. He knew he wouldn't be as popular as Ricochet, ever. He'd long accepted that fact ever since he'd been appointed as Ricochet's deputy. It was one of the reasons why he never really went to social gatherings. The other two were because he'd disappear into a crowd and because he had few friends in town outside of Ricochet himself. Ricochet usually dragged him along, saying that he needed to socialize. But as much as he understood what Ricochet was saying, it was pretty hard to socialize with people when they only paid attention to the friend who'd dragged him there. And Droop-a-Long had to admit, he was a little jealous of the rabbit's various skills. If he had half the talent Ricochet had, people would see him differently.

As he was drinking more of his punch, his ears caught the sound of a gun cocking. Curious, he made his way over to the other side of the building to find out what was going on. What he saw made every hair on the back of his neck rise.

A man who was a little shorter than him was poised at the adjacent window, a large rifle in his hands. Smirking gleefully, he took careful aim, using his left leg to hold the gun steady. Something about the man seemed vaguely familiar to Droop-a-Long, but he couldn't put his finger on it, so he decided to observe the man for a few moments more. It was when the man snickered evilly that he knew who it was just from the voice alone.

 _It's A.T. Sam Jose of all people!_ Droop-a-Long backed away slowly, hoping that Sam Jose didn't see him. He peered in through the window of Town Hall, and he felt gooseflesh rise under his fur.

The barrel of the rifle was aimed directly at Ricochet, who was busy talking to all the people surrounding him. Nobody was aware of Sam Jose, not even Ricochet himself.

"Oh, no..." Droop-a-Long muttered. If he killed Ricochet when he was off-guard, Droop-a-Long would never forgive himself.

His mind then started to come up with "advantages" if Ricochet died. If Ricochet died and Droop-a-Long became the sheriff, he'd have the chance to become popular just like Ricochet. He could have admirers and wannabes just like Ricochet. He could even have all the girls after him just like Ricochet.

Droop-a-Long cleared those thoughts from his head with a shake of his head. Being popular was a nice dream, and he'd love to be admired...but whether he was popular or not, whether he was admired or not, he couldn't have another friend just like Ricochet.

He dropped his glass and ran back into the building, throwing open the doors with such force that they banged against the walls. The noise surprised Ricochet, as he looked up from the throng that surrounded him to address his deputy. "Oh, hey, Droop, what's-"

Droop-a-Long moved faster than Ricochet had ever seen him move before. The next thing he knew, the coyote dove through the crowd and pushed him against the wall, causing him to black out for a second. He was just starting to open his eyes when a gunshot rang out, and the sounds of shattering glass filled his ears. Someone yelped in pain, and then there was a heavy thud as something hit the ground.

Screams erupted all around Ricochet, and footsteps pounded the floorboards as everyone ran for their lives. Shaking his head to regain his bearings, Ricochet got up to survey the scene. Town Hall had cleared out, and food and broken punch glasses were scattered all over the floor, creating a huge mess.

The state of Town Hall became the least of his worries. He felt his blood freeze as he fixed his eyes on the gasping form of Droop-a-Long, who was lying on the floor in front of him on his back and struggling to get up. His hat lay a few feet behind him, and a small pool of blood was starting to form around his left shoulder.

Ricochet was at his deputy's side in less than a second. He stared at him with a horrified expression on his face. "Droop, you..." He couldn't say anything else.

Droop-a-Long's eyes cracked open. "M-Mr. Ricochet...get outta here," he gasped. "S-Sam Jose's...tryin' ta kill ya..."

"I-I'm not leavin' ya to die, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. His voice was shaky, though whether it was from fear or from anger, he couldn't tell. He then helped the coyote get into a sitting position, and then dragged him over to the wall so he could rest against it. After making sure that his deputy was comfortable, Ricochet examined his wound. The bullet had caught Droop-a-Long in his left breast, and Ricochet winced, as he could still see the bullet. "I-I need to find something for a bandage..." He then untied the coyote's neckerchief and started to wrap the wound with that.

"Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long started weakly, wincing at how tight Ricochet was tying his bandage, "you don' have to-"

"Hush, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet interrupted. After he finished tying the bandage, he looked up at his deputy with a fierce expression. "You sit tight, Deputy. I'm gonna find Sam Jose and bring him to justice!"

Droop-a-Long wanted to mention that he couldn't do much but sit anyway, but by that point Ricochet had shot out of Town Hall to confront the would-be assassin. "G-Go get 'im, Mr. Ricochet..."

That was all he managed to say before he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

A.T. Sam Jose galloped away from the scene on horseback, snickering. "Well, I _was_ aiming for the sheriff...but his deputy was a nice catch!" he said. "If anythin', he'll pay putting me in jail by watchin' his deputy slowly bleed out." He laughed as he spurred the horse on.

"Stop right there! I'm placin' you under arrest!"

Sam Jose gasped in shock upon hearing that. He turned around to see Ricochet giving chase, his guns out of the holsters and aimed at him. His expression was dangerous as he glared up at Sam Jose. "And you're not gonna get out of jail again, Sam Jose!"

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that, Senor! I didn't kill you the first time...but I will this time!" Sam Jose reached around to grab his revolver.

"Oh, no you won't!" Ricochet leaped into the air, and tackled Sam Jose off of his horse. The former prisoner screamed in surprise as he crashed to the ground. His horse continued to run off in the distance.

Sam Jose growled, and he tried to grab his gun, but Ricochet's foot slammed down on his hand with enough force to rival a metal clamp. _"AY CARAMBA!"_ he yelled.

A cocking of a gun filled his ears and Sam Jose looked up to see Ricochet's gun directly in his face. The moonlight cast an eerie glow over Ricochet, illuminating the yellow sclera of his eyes, which were set into a dangerous glare. Sam Jose felt his bravado disappear in a flash as he looked at the furious rabbit. Nobody, not even the most feared outlaws in the West, had ever looked at him like that.

"You're under arrest, Sam Jose, for attempted assassination," Ricochet said softly. It was said in a cold, clinical voice, without any of his usual vigor. "I'm gonna sentence you to ten more years in prison. And after what you've done, that's the most peaceful option I have for you."

Despite his growing fear, Sam Jose tried to play cool. "A-All I did was shoot your deputy," he said. "I don' see what you're so upset about, Senor Sheriff. He's a slowpoke. Nobody would miss him if he died."

The barrel of Ricochet's gun pressed against his forehead, and Sam Jose squeaked in terror. Ricochet's glare hardened, and so did his voice. " _Don't_ try me, Sam Jose. You say one more word about shootin' Droop-a-Long-a _single word_ -and you'll be dead in a heartbeat," he growled. "Are we clear on that?"

Looking into those eyes, Sam Jose could see that Ricochet wasn't kidding. " _S-Si_ , Senor," he said.

Ricochet glared at him for a few moments more, and for a moment, Sam Jose thought that the rabbit was really going to shoot him. But he pulled the gun away and reached for his handcuffs, stepping off of Sam's hand to do so. He snapped on the handcuffs and dragged the prisoner to his feet. Sam Jose groaned as he felt his muscles ache from his collision with the road.

"Now, march," Ricochet ordered. "You're gonna be held in my office 'til mornin'."

Sam Jose sighed. "To think that a rabbit would really care that much for a coyote...you're full of _frijoles_ _,"_ he remarked.

"That coyote happens to be my friend. And you should consider yourself lucky, 'cause if you had killed him, you weren't gettin' away alive," Ricochet said. "I would've seen to it."

Sam Jose could say nothing else to that. He mostly focused on controlling his fear as Ricochet marched him into the sheriff's office.

* * *

 _Several hours later..._

"How will he hold up, Doc?" Ricochet asked, looking over at his deputy from his position. He was leaning against the wall, while Droop-a-Long was lying in a hospital bed, his neckerchief exchanged for a white bandage. The coyote's chest rose and fell with every weak breath, and his closed eyes showed his agony.

Ricochet's right hand balled into a fist, and his fingernails dug into the palm with enough force to draw blood. Seeing his deputy in that much pain only made him feel angrier at himself for not paying attention. If he had just turned around to see what was going on, he could've caught Sam Jose red-handed. He and the rest of the town would be able to enjoy a night in peace.

If he had just turned around, Droop-a-Long wouldn't have had to jump in to save his life. His deputy wouldn't be in here suffering because of his mistake.

"He'll live," the doctor said. "I managed to get the bullet out of his breast. He's a very lucky coyote; the bullet was only a few inches away from his heart."

Ricochet tensed. "It...it was that close?"

The doctor nodded. "Any lower, and he wouldn't have made it. Right now, we've gotta wait to see when he'll wake up."

Ricochet nodded, keeping his eyes trained on his deputy. After a beat, he said, "I'll stay here for the night, Doc."

"But with Sam Jose-"

"I've telegraphed an old friend of mine to come in and watch 'im. 'sides, if I have to spend another minute in that room with him tauntin' me, I'm gonna resort to violence," Ricochet said. "Also...Droop-a-Long stayed by my side when I had a life-threatenin' injury. I couldn't call myself his friend if I didn't do the same thing."

The doctor sighed. "I get it. Well, feel free to take the spare bed, Sheriff. Let me know if anything changes."

* * *

 _At Ricochet's office..._

"Now hold on thar, Sam Jose! I'll be doin' the talkin' around here, and don't you for-git it!"

Sam Jose growled at Quick Draw McGraw, who was sitting in one of the chairs next to the spare cells in Ricochet's office. "This is the worst day ever!" he groaned.

Next to him, Baba Looey chuckled. "I think you shouldn't have tried to kill Senor Ricochets, Sam Jose."

Sam Jose glared at Baba Looey. "Nobody told you to say anything, you pack mule."

"What did you just say?!" Baba Looey yelled, his expression turning livid.

"Now, Sam Jose," Quick Draw said coolly, leveling another glare at the Mexican outlaw, "if you don't keep quiet, I'll have to tell Sheriff Ricochet that you're insulting his friends as well as shootin' them. And I'm sure that you don't want that, right?"

Sam Jose shook his head rapidly. "N-No, Senor! That rabbit terrifies me! He almost killed me!" he said.

"I can't exactly blame 'im. After all, if Baba Looey were hurt, I wouldn't be so nice with the fella who shot 'im," Quick Draw said. "Now this time, I mean it. Don't say anythin' else until mornin'. Then Ricochet's gonna deal with you."

* * *

 _The next morning..._

Droop-a-Long slowly opened his eyes around the crack of dawn. The first thing he felt was the pain in his left breast, and he groaned. The procedure to get the bullet out had hurt even more than when he'd first gotten shot, to the point where he'd passed out from the pain afterwards. He wouldn't be able to move around for a while, but he was relieved that the bullet hadn't gone through and hit his heart. That would've spelled his death for sure.

The second thing he felt was soft and fluffy. He turned his head over to the side to find Ricochet sleeping on his arm, his head buried in his arms and snoring softly. His cowboy hat had fallen off, and it rested a few inches away from Droop-a-Long's leg.

Droop-a-Long gently moved his arm and patted Ricochet on the head. "Ya must've been right worried, Mr. Ricochet," he said while scratching him behind the ears. "I'm jus' glad you're not in here."

One of Ricochet's ears perked up, and then his eyes slowly cracked open. He looked up to see Droop-a-Long's arm above his head, and then shoved it away. "What did I tell ya about touchin' my head, Droop-a-Long? Jus' because I'm a rabbit doesn't mean I like bein' petted by people," he said.

"I couldn't help it, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Ya jus' looked so peaceful."

Ricochet sighed as he sat up, but then his mouth twitched to form a smile. "Well, to be honest, that scratchin' behind the ears felt nice," he said. "Thanks."

"No problem. Did you get Sam Jose?"

"I sure did. He's at the office right now, bein' watched over by Quick Draw and Baba Looey," Ricochet said.

"Shucks, we haven't heard from Mr. McGraw in a long time," Droop-a-Long said. "How is he, anyway?"

"Oh, you know that Quick Draw. He's still out catchin' criminals an' all. He challenged me to a shootout later, but I told 'im that I'll handle Sam Jose first," Ricochet said.

"So what's gonna happen to Sam Jose, anyway?"

"He's gonna get ten more years in the calaboose. You don't have to worry about him. He wasn't gettin' away, after what he did to ya."

"That's good. I was startin' to worry that I wasn't gonna make it," Droop-a-Long answered. "I was worried that I'd break poor Denise's heart, and I was gonna leave you without a deputy, Mr. Ricochet."

"That's enough of that talk, Droop. You weren't gonna be breakin' anybody's hearts any time soon. I would've made sure to that."

Droop-a-Long chuckled. "I reckon you're right, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "That sounds like somethin' you'd do."

Ricochet gave a tight lipped nod, though Droop-a-Long noticed that he was starting to tremble. Right before he could ask what was wrong, Ricochet then reached over and hugged him, grasping his fur tightly and burying his face in Droop-a-Long's other shoulder. The coyote stared at the rabbit as he started to shudder and sniffle.

He'd seen Ricochet cry only a few times in his career as deputy, and even then, it was rare for the rabbit to come to him for comfort. Ricochet always kept his emotions on lock so he wouldn't have to show weakness; it was his nature to keep everything to himself and not admit when he was worried or upset. It took a lot to really get him to admit his fears, much less cry.

Droop-a-Long felt a twinge of guilt course through him as he knew that Ricochet was crying because of him and what he'd done to save his life. He returned the hug with his right arm, feeling close to tears himself.

"Aw, don't...don't cry, Mr. Ricochet. It's not like you to cry," he said finally.

"L-Let me c-cry just this once, Droop," Ricochet answered. His voice was choked with a sob. "Do...do you have any idea of how w-worried I was? I-I almost lost you 'cause I wasn't watchin' out for you like you watched out for me. Y-You saved my life, but I almost didn't save y-y-yours." He tried to compose himself, but it was impossible, it seemed.

"But you did. The doctor said that if you hadn't stopped the bleedin' with my neckerchief, I would've bled to death," Droop-a-Long said, patting his friend on the back. "I'm mighty lucky, even if I do say so myself."

"You sure are." Ricochet removed himself from Droop-a-Long and wiped his eyes. "A-And I'm mighty lucky to have a deputy like you around. If you hadn't come in, I would've been gone." He smiled a little. "Looks like I-I owe ya another one, Droop."

"Shucks...t-thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, wiping his eyes.

"Hey, don't you go 'n get teary on me," Ricochet said.

"S-Seein' you cry made me cry," Droop-a-Long replied, sniffling. "A-And hearin' you say that was too saddenin'..."

"I-It's the truth, Droop-a-Long. I would've been in here, or even worse..."

"Even so, it takes a lot ta get ya to cry. You hardly cry!"

"That ain't true, Droop-a-Long. I've cried lotsa times. I was right ready to last night when I saw you on the floor," Ricochet said. "When I was goin' after Sam Jose, I-I thought you were gone..."

Droop-a-Long couldn't blame Ricochet for thinking that. If their positions were reversed, he would've forgotten all about A.T. Sam Jose, instead bawling his eyes out for hours. "But like you said, Mr. Ricochet, you wouldn't have let me die. You'd probably punch me back to life if I did."

Ricochet chuckled at that. "Yeah, probably."

"So, what do I do now? I reckon you have to get back to catchin' crooks."

"I do, Droop-a-Long. Right now, I have to take Sam Jose to the state prison. You just focus on gettin' some rest," Ricochet said. "I'll be back later on this afternoon, okay?"

"Actually, Mr. Ricochet...I-I'm feelin' a tad bit tired."

Ricochet climbed off of the bedsheets and straightened them out. "Alright, I'd better let you rest, Droopy. Don't tire yourself out, alright?"

"Sure thing...Sherriff..." And before Ricochet knew it, Droop-a-Long was asleep.

Ricochet scooped up his hat and walked out of the room, pausing again to wipe his eyes. "Great, now I can't stop cryin'," he muttered.

He hadn't been lying about what he'd said to Droop-a-Long. The thought of losing his best friend had terrified him, although not nearly as much as it had angered him. Revenge was something that he never thought about often, but it was all that ran through his mind as soon as he saw Sam Jose. He'd never wanted to kill someone more than he'd wanted to kill Sam Jose at that moment. Sam Jose had mocked Droop-a-Long on top of shooting him, and it had taken all Ricochet had in him to not blow his brains out. It was a good thing he'd tamed that impulse, or else he would've turned in his badge as soon as he'd come back. He could never take on the role of sheriff if he'd killed a man in cold blood, even if it was in retaliation. It would destroy his honor.

When he'd made it back to Town Hall after dropping off Sam Jose and making sure Quick Draw and Baba Looey were keeping watch, his worry for Droop-a-Long overcame his desire for revenge. He remembered panicking and yanking one person off the street, asking what happened to Droop-a-Long since he wasn't in the building. For a split second, he'd thought that Droop-a-Long had died and he had only achieved a hollow victory. It was only after the man told him that they'd moved Droop-a-Long to the doctor's that he'd relaxed, but just barely. He'd stayed up half the night watching over his friend until he'd fallen asleep. If Droop-a-Long had died while he was asleep, he would've never forgiven himself for not paying attention.

Ricochet had had three deputies before Droop-a-Long, and he knew that the town would appoint another deputy if the coyote had died. The new deputy could be better than Droop-a-Long. They could be faster, smarter and more alert than Droop-a-Long.

But there was nobody he'd rather have for the job than Droop-a-Long. Slow as he was, he tended to be more observant of things. That observance had saved Ricochet's life twice, after all.

Slow as he was, he had a patience that would put Baba Looey to shame, never blowing up at Ricochet for the times he bragged or took his anger out on him. He'd get mildly upset, but other than that, he'd never yell at him or say rude things about him in return.

Slow as he was, he was the sweetest, most respectable friend Ricochet had ever had. Droop-a-Long was Ricochet's favorite deputy for a reason; even if he really had nothing else going for him, he was so darn selfless and thoughtful that it was practically impossible to stay mad at him for long.

It was true that someone else could easily take Droop-a-Long's place as Ricochet's deputy. But they could never take his place as Ricochet's best friend.

The doctor he'd talked to earlier looked at Ricochet with concern. "How is he, Sheriff?"

"H-He's fine. Jus' a bit tired, though," Ricochet said. He sniffled, and then sighed shakily. "I-I bet you heard a little of what I said to him, huh?"

"I did. You're a good friend, Ricochet, for bringing Sam Jose to justice," the doctor said. "Are you sure you're gonna be alright?"

"T-To be honest, I don't know. B-But I should be able to get back to my old self soon enough," Ricochet answered. "I jus' don't want Droop-a-Long to worry about me."

"Alright. Take care, Sheriff."

"You too, Doc." Sighing, Ricochet walked outside, praying that he could find the strength to get through this.

* * *

 _Several weeks later...  
_

"Now Droop-a-Long, take it easy. It is your first day back on the job," Ricochet said, looking over at Droop-a-Long as he was sweeping the dust out of the office. "I don't need you stressin' yourself out."

"Well, the place is a mess, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, surveying the office. "You've spent so much time at the hospital, ya left the office in shambles."

Ricochet couldn't lie about that. Due to being used to Droop-a-Long cleaning the office every day, he had let it become a catch-all, with the strangest trash scattered everywhere. As soon as Droop-a-Long had come back, he'd immediately set to cleaning everything, despite Ricochet's protests that he take it easy.

As grateful as he was that the office was clean, he was still concerned. "I recall you did the same thing when we first met, Droop. When I was in the hospital, you told me that you'd left your house a mess."

Droop-a-Long answered without looking at the sheriff. "I know, but this is different. I can't stand a messy room, Mr. Ricochet. 'sides, I need somethin' to keep me busy. I'm right tired of layin' around all day."

Against his better judgement, Ricochet blurted out, "If you hadn't jumped in 'n taken a bullet for me, you wouldn't have had to."

"Are you sayin' I should've let you die, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked quietly.

Whatever calm Ricochet had was lost after that. "I'm sayin' that you were bein' incredibly reckless, Droop-a-Long, runnin' into danger like that!" he yelled. For the last few weeks, his anger at this situation had been building up steadily, but he'd kept it to himself so Droop-a-Long wouldn't worry about him. Now all of that anger had found a target. "And when I tried to save you, you wanted me to run off 'n leave you to bleed out!"

Droop-a-Long turned to face Ricochet with a look of shock. "I wanted ya to run to safety, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

"You of all people should know that I never run when my friends are in danger! Why would you tell me to run, knowin' that you could die without help? Are you sayin' I should've let _you_ die, Droop-a-Long?!"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Ricochet was redder than a beet, breathing heavily in order to recover from such an outburst, while Droop-a-Long was staring at the ground, his expression sorrowful.

"Well, are ya gonna answer me, or are ya gonna just stand thar like a dolt?" Ricochet demanded.

"...I would've never lived with myself if you died, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said finally.

Ricochet stared at Droop-a-Long in surprise. "W-What?"

"Mr. Ricochet, I told you to run 'cause I thought Sam Jose was still out there. He shot me soon as I pushed you outta the way. Figured he'd try to take aim again and kill you for real. That's why I told you to run and not worry 'bout li'l ol' me. I knew I could die...but I wanted to make sure you got out okay. Ta be honest, I wasn't worried 'bout myself in the least."

"...S-Still, why, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet could feel the lump start in his throat, the same one that always came up when he remembered Droop-a-Long's actions. He balled his hand into a fist as he struggled to not burst into tears again. "Why would ya do somethin' so reckless? You almost died!"

"I-I did it ta save your life, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long took off his hat, revealing teary green eyes. "I could always have popularity and fame like you...but I'd never have another friend like you. You may be better than me in anythin', but I'd take a bullet for ya 'cause you're my best friend, and the only one I've got."

For the second time in several weeks, Ricochet was moved to tears. He smiled at his deputy as he wiped his eyes. "Aw, shucks, Droop...n-now ya've gone and got me all weepy," he said. Sniffling, he reached into his vest pocket, pulled out his handkerchief and blew his nose in it. After sniffling again, he said, "I-I'm sorry I gave you a scoldin'. I was holdin' all that in for weeks and..."

"It's alright, Mr. Ricochet. If I had all that goin' on, I'd let it all out, too," Droop-a-Long said, wiping his eyes as well. "But I won't do somethin' like that again if it worries you so much that you're blowin' up at people."

"Thanks for the sentiment, Droop-a-Long. I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I really liked writing this one. For a slow-moving deputy, Droop's unfailingly loyal and selfless. And even though he doesn't show it (or is too caught up in his own thing), Ricochet does care for his deputy and won't tolerate anybody messing with him. Ricochet's got a lot of Berserk Buttons, but messing with Droop-a-Long is his biggest one.  
**_

 _ **I brought back A.T. Sam Jose, the main bad guy in the Ricochet Rabbit episode "Atchison Topeka and Sam Jose", since I can see him being the type of person who'd want revenge on the law. And Quick Draw and Baba Looey's cameo was also fun to write (although personally I feel that Ricochet and Quick Draw would be friendly rivals if they ever met).**_

 _ **The explanation for Ricochet's three previous deputies, as well as why he says that he owes Droop-a-Long another one, is all in chapter 4.**_

 _ **This may be my Droop-a-Long fangirl talking, but I liked writing him in this chapter. I like how he still chose his friend over his own desire to have popularity and fame. I was going to actually kill him off, but I decided not to. That would've made the story too sad. Writing the scene where Ricochet hugs Droop-a-Long and tells him how worried he was, not to mention his Anger Born of Worry scene near the end, made me kind of teary, to be honest; imagining this happening in an actual episode is pretty much what did it for me.**_

 _ **Oh, and I threw in sleeping Ricochet again because the image of him sleeping like that was too cute to resist. And I couldn't resist having Droop-a-Long petting him behind the ears.**_

 _ **Next chapters are gonna be a little more serious. Constructive criticism is great, as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	9. Short 9: Driven to the Edge

**A/N: *announcer voice* This short has been brought to you byyyyyyy...Vulaan Kulaas, a fellow author and good friend!**

Vulaan Kulaas' review had me thinking of another short. This one's more serious than the last one, so it's been bumped up to T. Oh, and it takes place a month or two after the last one.

 **Disclaimer:** I STILL don't own anything...

* * *

 **Story 9: Driven to the Edge**

"Droop-a-Long? Are you-Droop, wake up!"

The coyote snapped to attention at hearing Ricochet's voice right behind him. He was so disoriented that the shotgun he'd been holding hit the floor with a loud clang. He turned towards the sheriff with bleary eyes. "W-What's the problem, Mr. Ricochet?" he asked.

Ricochet stood at the door with his hands on his hips, his face set into a serious expression. "You've been fallin' asleep while you're supposed to keep watch, that's the problem."

Droop-a-Long sighed sadly. "Sorry, Mr. Ricochet..."

Ricochet looked up at his friend, noticing that his eyes were bloodshot and were barely staying open. His irritation soon turned into concern. "Come to think of it, you look plum tuckered out, Droop-a-Long. You sure you've been gettin' enough sleep?"

"Well, I try to, but sometimes I wake up and can't sleep for hours. I keep thinkin' of the time you were almost killed, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long confessed.

Ricochet's frown deepened. He remembered that all too well. Although he had gotten justice for his deputy by bringing Sam Jose to prison, just thinking of what had happened to Droop-a-Long brought back memories he wanted to forget.

"...You have, huh?" Ricochet said finally.

"I don't wanna worry ya, Mr. Ricochet, but somethin' about that incident is buggin' me. It feels like it might happen again," Droop-a-Long said.

"It won't happen again, Droop. Thanks to you, I've learned to be much more observant," Ricochet said. "It'll do ya no good to keep worryin' over somethin' from two months ago."

"I guess you're right, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, before his mouth stretched open with a yawn.

"Now, I suggest you get some sleep," Ricochet said, patting his friend on the arm. "I'll stay up and keep watch."

"But I was supposed to-"

"Droop-a-Long, you've been overworkin' yourself to the point of exhaustion," Ricochet interrupted. "I'm not gonna have you pass out on me during a case. Now I mean it, off to bed."

Droop-a-Long wanted to argue some more, but one look at Ricochet's serious expression made up his mind. "Alright. Goodnight, Mr. Ricochet," he said, which was punctuated by another yawn. "I'll be back out in a little while..."

Ricochet watched Droop-a-Long head upstairs and sighed, shaking his head. "I doubt that."

* * *

"Is there anybody else out tonight?"

Jasper snickered as he surveyed the small sheriff's office. Ricochet was out on the porch, reclined in his chair and napping. "We're in luck. It's Ricochet Rabbit himself who's out tonight," he said.

"So, whaddya reckon we do?" one of his henchmen asked.

"I say we go in for the attack," Jasper said. "If we take out the sheriff, we'll be on easy street-not to mention the most famous outlaws around here. Nobody else can claim that they killed Ricochet Rabbit, eh?" He made his way around the office and motioned for his gang to spread out. He brought his voice down to a whisper. "Try not to be too loud. When you know you've got the drop on 'im, get 'im."

Everyone nodded, and stayed down as low as they could. Jasper was starting to creep closer when Ricochet stopped snoring. Jasper stopped and froze, remaining deathly still as Ricochet slowly opened his eyes. Rubbing them, he took a look around the area around his office as well as the shops around them.

"Hmm...no trouble about tonight," he said. He climbed down from the chair, and turned to enter to the office. "Better get some sleep. It's gonna be a busy day tomorrow."

Jasper smirked. Ricochet had his back turned. He turned to his men and nodded, then watched as two of his men sprang like coils over the fence and pounced on Ricochet.

Yelps filled the air moments later, and the rest of the men jumped up to help their members, who were struggling to keep a hold on a squirming Ricochet. Jasper got up a few moments later, and casually walked over to the outlaws, who were getting to their feet with Ricochet, who was trying to twist his way out.

"Urgh! Unhand me, you ruffians, in the name of the law! Don't you know who I am?!" Ricochet yelled.

"Oh, we all know who you are," Jasper said, stepping into the light. "And you're gonna know who I am soon enough."

Ricochet surveyed the tall, tan-skinned human. He wore a red and black plaid shirt with a matching black neckerchief and cowboy hat, which concealed his brown hair. Jasper surveyed his prey with dark green eyes.

"And who, pray tell, are you?" Ricochet asked.

"The name's Jasper," he said. "And I'm gonna go down in history for bein' the most dangerous outlaw who ever lived."

Ricochet snorted derisively. "A lot of outlaws have said that, and I've jailed every single one of 'em. So if I was you, I wouldn't make that boast."

Jasper's features turned into an even crueler smile. "Oh, I think you'll find that I can back up my boast pretty well." He turned to the rest of his gang. "Bring him in. And bring out that lumbering coyote he calls a deputy." Jasper smirked as he walked behind the other men. "He wouldn't want to miss this."

* * *

Droop-a-Long stirred awake at the sound of voices. He heard Ricochet's first, sarcastic and angry. The others he didn't quite know, but all he knew was that they were barking at Ricochet about something. Rubbing his eyes, Droop-a-Long walked over to the door and opened it.

"Mr. Ricochet?" he asked. "Is everythin' alri-"

His question was violently cut off when two people grabbed him by the arms. "What the-"

"You're comin' with us, Deputy," a man said and shoved him forwards. In his bleary state, Droop-a-Long was completely disoriented and fell flat on his face. The man's features curled with disgust. "Aw, come on. I heard he was slow on his feet, but this is ridiculous."

"Just grab him by the scruff of his neck, Dave. We don't have all night," another man said.

Dave groaned and roughly grabbed Droop-a-Long by the scruff of his neck. He practically dragged him down the stairs, sending his body jolting with pain. The voices downstairs quickly silenced, and Droop-a-Long heard Ricochet gasp.

"Droop-a-Long!"

"Howdy, Mr. Ricochet," he said, looking up to face the sheriff. He looked around to see the other outlaws surrounding them. "Who're all these people?"

"They're outlaws, Droop. I don't know what they want or what they're doin', but-"

"Keep quiet!" one of the men yelled, and punched Ricochet in the gut. He doubled over with a moan.

Droop-a-Long was suddenly wide awake, and his eyes widened. "Wha-what are y'all doin' to Mr. Ricochet?" he asked.

Jasper laughed. "Hmmm...well, we're plannin' on roughin' him up a bit, mostly so he can't use that big mouth of his. But after that, we're gonna finish him off, nice and slow. And you're gonna have a front row seat to the whole thing, Deputy."

Droop-a-Long felt a chill wash over him at the casualness of Jasper's tone. Ricochet looked just as terrified, his eyes wider than dinner plates. "You...you were bein' serious back there..." he said.

"But of course! And when I'm finished with you, I'll be the most feared outlaw in the whole West," Jasper said. "You really have no idea how many people want you dead, Ricochet."

Droop-a-Long shot to his feet and attempted to lunge at Jasper, only to be held back by Dave and the other man, who held him by his upper shoulders. The coyote's eyes were alight with fury, and he snarled at Jasper and the other outlaws, who were giving him mean smiles, although one or two jumped back in terror. Ricochet's eyes widened even more as he stared at his deputy in shock, having never seen this side of him before.

"D-Droop-a-Long?" he started.

"I...I won't let you do that to Mr. Ricochet!" Droop-a-Long snarled, glaring at Jasper.

"Oho, loyal aren't we? How nice to see you fighting for your master like a guard dog," Jasper taunted. "Well, it'll do ya no good to try and fight us, Droop-a-Long Coyote. We're gonna get rid of Ricochet Rabbit once and for all, and you're gonna be forced to watch us do it. And then, we'll finish you off."

Droop-a-Long growled angrily, and still attempted to twist free. Jasper turned towards Ricochet as he started rolling up his sleeves. _If they kill 'im, I'll rip 'em limb from limb, those heartless monsters-_

Jasper swung at Ricochet, landing a crushing blow that sent his head snapping upwards briefly. He slammed another fist into Ricochet's face, and then another, until his fists were practically flying with lightning speed. Blood flew freely from Ricochet's mouth, and he let a yell of pain as Jasper's punch collided with his tooth, chipping part of it off with the force.

The next punch sent Ricochet flying out of the other men's grip and crashing into the wall. Jasper stepped back, letting out a breath, and then motioned for the other men to join him. Ricochet struggled to sit up, but that was when Jasper lodged swung his foot out and hit him in the chest, sending him into the wall again. He shrieked in pain, and doubled over, clutching his ribs.

Jasper and the outlaws laughed at Ricochet's suffering. "It ends here, Sheriff!" Jasper said. He soon started to land punch after punch on Ricochet's face, and the rest of the outlaws followed suit, laughing cruelly as they continued to beat on the injured rabbit.

Droop-a-Long was growing more restless with every second, and he was twisting even more fiercely than before. His pupils were the size of tacks, and his fangs were bared. Deep growls came from his throat, and only deepened further when he heard Ricochet's scream of pain above the sounds of the outlaws' laughter and their fists meeting his face.

The men holding him laughed. "Aw, look. The guard dog's getting upset," Dave taunted. "I wonder what'll happen if we turn 'im loose, huh?"

"Not like he'll be much of a threat anyway," his partner said, watching as Jasper and the rest of his teammates continued to beat on Ricochet. The rabbit's screams became softer and softer as he was losing the strength to do so. "It won't be long now."

Those words were the last straw for Droop-a-Long. With a snarl that befit a tiger more than a coyote, he whirled around and sank his teeth directly into the other man's shoulder with a vicious grip. The man screamed, and Dave jumped back in utter fear. The man attempted to pull Droop-a-Long off of him, but it was no use. With another snarl, Droop-a-Long swung around and slammed the man into Dave, finally releasing him. The sudden release sent both of them crashing to the ground.

Jasper turned around to see what was going on. "What the-"

Droop-a-Long lunged at him, his paws outstretched. Before Jasper could say anything, they were around his neck in a crushing grip. Droop-a-Long dragged Jasper to the other side of the office and pushed him up against the wall. Jasper stared into the wrathful eyes of Droop-a-Long, who was baring his fangs and snarling. The blood of Dave's partner covered his mouth and his teeth.

Guns cocked from all directions, and Droop-a-Long turned to face the outlaws, who were surrounding the bloody and beaten Ricochet. His glare was murderous. A few looked unafraid of him, but most of them were scared out of their wits, their hands trembling.

"Don't...don't you even _think_ of layin' another finger on Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long growled.

"Or else what?" one of the outlaws asked.

"I'll break his neck," Droop-a-Long answered.

"You wouldn't-"

"Don't believe me?" Droop-a-Long tightened his grip for emphasis, and Jasper's gasp of agony made his whole gang flinch. "It'll be like snappin' a twig."

The whole room was silent, save for Jasper's gasping and Ricochet's ragged breathing. All eyes were on Droop-a-Long, who still had a death grip on Jasper, and who was still giving them that murderous glare.

And they had thought Ricochet was the one to be feared.

Slowly, they all dropped their guns and raised their hands in surrender, most of them white with fear. Once he made sure that they all had dropped their guns, Droop-a-Long released Jasper and let him drop to the floor. The leader of the outlaws grasped at his reddened throat, coughing and gulping down air.

When he had regained his breath, the coyote knelt down to his level and looked at him. For the first time all night, Jasper looked utterly terrified, something that Droop-a-Long almost relished.

"Now look here, Jasper," he started, "you should be glad that a stranglin's all you got. I could've torn you apart, like I almost tore off one of your men's arms with my teeth. But I ain't the violent type."

One of the outlaws scoffed. "Ain't the violent type my-"

Droop-a-Long turned to face the man, and his sharp glare stopped the other man cold. He then turned back to Jasper, who was shaking. "This'll be yer only warnin', Jasper. If you ever, _ever_ lay a finger on Mr. Ricochet again, jus' so you can get your revenge, I will tear your throat out. And that'll be _after_ I rip you limb from limb." He then turned towards the other men. "And that goes for y'all, too. I will kill you if you even think of hurtin' my friend." He faced Jasper again, his glare hard. "Are we clear on that?"

Jasper nodded fearfully, while everyone else immediately gave affirmatives.

Droop-a-Long got up and walked over to the outlaws. Everyone jumped back as he got the guns off of the floor. After putting them in the desk, he turned to face Ricochet, who was attempting to sit up. Walking over to the sheriff, he helped him get to a sitting position. He then looked at the men. "Now, get out, all of ya. And I don't wanna see any of y'all 'round here again," he said.

The order didn't have to be repeated. Everyone, including Jasper, took off running, whimpering in fear as they made their escape.

A hand gripped his arm, and Droop-a-Long turned back to face Ricochet, who cracked his right eye open. The other was turning purple, and his white fur was sticky and matted with blood, as was his muzzle and his tooth. "D-Droop-a-Long," he gasped, "wha-" He looked at the blood on his deputy's mouth, and his eye widened. "What did you do?"

Droop-a-Long rubbed his mouth and stared at the blood for a moment, the taste of it fresh on his tongue. The thought of what he'd just done sank in fully, and he sighed, feeling his ears droop down.

"Droop-a-Long," Ricochet repeated, this time a little more firmly. Droop-a-Long looked his friend in the eye. _"What did you do?"_

Droop-a-Long couldn't stop the tremors that were making his way down his arms. He stared at the blood in his palm for a long moment, remembering where it'd come from. "I...I got angry 'n lost control of myself, Mr. Ricochet," he said. His voice was just as shaky, and he felt as though he wanted to cry. "W-When they said they were gonna kill you, I jus' went berserk. I bit one guy in the shoulder and I almost strangled the leader to death. I...I-I'm so s-sorry, Mr. R-Ricochet..."

Ricochet looked at Droop-a-Long's bloodstained hands and then at his deputy, who buried face in them and started to sob. He wouldn't have believed if he hadn't seen his deputy's absolutely feral expression after Jasper had threatened to kill him. It was a sight that he'd never seen before and hoped to never see again.

He looked up at the sobbing Droop-a-Long and moved his arm to put it on his friend's upper arm. "Droop-"

Droop-a-Long pushed it away. "D-Don't touch me, Mr. Ricochet...I-I'm a monster...j-jus' like you said before, 'bout all coyotes bein' monsters.."

"No, you're not," Ricochet wheezed. "Don't even _think_ that, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long's head snapped up to look at Ricochet, his expression incredulous. "B-B-But I threatened to kill people! I've never done that! I-I would never-"

"Droopy, if someone tried to kill you, I wouldn't be all polite with them. I wasn't all nice to Sam Jose when he shot you. I threatened to kill him, too, when he started mockin' ya," Ricochet interrupted.

"But...but you d-d-detest violence, Mr. Ricochet!"

"I do. But when it comes down to my loved ones and friends, I'll fight to the teeth for 'em," Ricochet said. "Jus' like how you fought to save me, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long wiped his eyes and sniffled. "But...I-I s-still went too far, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "I-I don't really get angry, but when I do, I...I lose control."

"Then you have to learn how to control your anger, as well as makin' sure that you deliver the right amount of force needed," Ricochet said. "Sometimes, when you get really angry, you just decide to beat the tar outta that person, 'cause that's what you feel like doin' at the moment. But that makes you no better than them, Droop, when ya do that. And in the end, you only feel guilty. Believe me, I know; I've done it. It's easier to get lost in anger than it is to control it."

"Y-You're right, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He sighed. "But I did mean what I said to them outlaws; I'm gonna go after 'em and give 'em what for if they ever hurt you again."

"You said you were gonna rip 'em apart, Droop," Ricochet said. "I heard a little of what ya said to them."

Droop-a-Long blanched. "Y-You did?"

"I gotta admit, I was surprised, and a bit scared," Ricochet said. "I'll have to remind myself to never make you that mad."

"I just hope I never get that mad again. I scared myself scarin' them, too," Droop-a-Long said. "Now what do we do, Mr. Ricochet?"

"I'd recommend gettin' me to a doctor. I don't wanna end up stiff and unable to move tomorrow."

Droop-a-Long scooped Ricochet up as carefully as he could. "Right away, Sheriff."

* * *

 _A little while later..._

"I can't believe this! Two months ago, it was Droop-a-Long, now it's you!" The doctor faced Ricochet with a stern glare. "Keep this up, Sheriff, and I'm gonna have to strap both of you in here."

Droop-a-Long chuckled nervously, while Ricochet simply shrugged. "Well, doc, I think that all comes with bein' a sheriff. We all have bad days and nights."

"And tonight was particularly awful," Droop-a-Long said.

The doctor looked at Ricochet's injuries and sighed. "I can tell. So, what happened to him this time? He looks like he got beat up by a gang or something."

"Funny you should say that, 'cause that's actually what happened."

"WHAT?!"

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **This was pretty interesting to write, since we've never seen Droop-a-Long get angry in the show proper. You think he would, after all the stuff he has to go through on an episodic basis. But this short proves that it's not the aggressive people you've gotta watch out for (although I would recommend still doing so); it's always the calm, easygoing ones who have the most explosive bursts of anger...or turn out to be not so weak after all. Based on this, I think that Droop-a-Long's more dangerous than Ricochet when he's mad...but you still don't want to bring out either of their bad sides.**_

 _ **If I feel like it, I may do a short where one guy manages to do just that and learns the hard way that making a sheriff and his deputy angry is not smart. What do you think?**_

 _ **Oh, and that conversation Ricochet and Droop-a-Long have in learning how to tame his anger when he finally lets it loose was inspired by my first story "Super Readers' Biggest Adventure", where Super Why tells Wonder Red this after she goes berserk on the Evil Reader and kicked the tar out of him. Like Ricochet said, it's much easier to give into your anger than it is to rein it in, because you just want to let it all out so badly.**_

 _ **And to be honest, I think that if I were the doctor, I'd be kind of annoyed to see Droop-a-Long and Ricochet back and forth so frequently, too.**_

 _ **Next short might be a silly one to lighten up the mood left by this one...but if I get enough requests, I may do that idea that I have above.**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, and thanks, VK, for the idea! Constructive criticism's great as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	10. Short 10: Guilty Pleasure

**A/N:** Chapters 8 & 9 were pretty dark, so it's time that we had something to lighten things up a little. To those of you who have guilty pleasures yourselves, this is a chapter for you!

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Ricochet or Droop-a-Long. All I own are the novels that appear, as well as Denise and Felicia.

* * *

 **Story 10: Guilty Pleasure**

It was a lazy summer afternoon in Hoop 'n Holler, and most of the residents of the town were out and about. Others, such as Ricochet Rabbit and his deputy, Droop-a-Long, were staying inside to work on paperwork and keep cool, as well as keeping the place tidy.

"Did the mail come yet, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet asked.

"I think it did, Mr. Ricochet," his deputy replied. He was at the table squeezing lemons for lemonade. "Nowadays, they leave packages right outside the door."

"I'll go out an' check if we got anythin' today."

When Ricochet opened the door, a very large package was waiting for him. Upon examining it, he picked it up and walked back inside. "Deputy Droop-a-Long, you've got a package," he said.

Droop-a-Long's ears perked up at that. "A package for me?" he asked. "Who's it from?"

Ricochet's face turned upwards into a sly smirk. "It's from Denise," he said. "I reckon it's mighty important."

Droop-a-Long ran over to grab the package, leaving the pitcher of lemonade hanging in midair for a moment. Ricochet raced to catch it, and it fell neatly into his arms, albeit with some lemon juice splashing on his vest. "Geez, don't get too excited, Droop!" he said, looking at the coyote.

Droop-a-Long was too busy opening the package to pay attention to Ricochet's warning. His tail wagged with excitement as he stared inside. "Finally, the books she said she was gonna send," he said.

Ricochet looked at Droop-a-Long in surprise. "I didn't know you were an avid reader, Droop-a-Long."

"Oh, I love readin' books, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long replied. "'specially the books that she sends. They're pretty good. They've got a lot of adventure, suspense...you'd like them."

Ricochet watched as Droop-a-Long pulled out three books: one red, one blue and one purple. As Droop-a-Long put the books down on the table, he took a look at the covers and saw images of a male coyote and a female rabbit standing together in a forest, looking lovingly in each other's eyes. He made a face. " _These_ are the books you're readin', Droop? They're romance novels!" he said.

Droop-a-Long blushed in embarrassment. "Like I said, there's suspense an' adventure, too, Mr. Ricochet. There's a really good subplot in the second book about the lady's brother tryin' ta-"

"Look, Droop-a-Long...romance novels just ain't my thing," Ricochet interrupted. "'sides, I can tell just from the cover alone that it's gonna be one of those _really_ romantic stories."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Whatever you say, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "I'd best be gettin' back to that lemonade."

"I agree. I'm gettin' right parched." Ricochet gave the pitcher back to his deputy, then took another look at the book and groaned. _Just another pile of mushy nonsense._

* * *

 _Later that evening..._

Ricochet sighed as he put aside the last few sheets of his paperwork, and reclined back in his chair to prop his feet up on the desk. "Ah, finally got that paperwork done," he remarked. "Today really _was_ a slow day after all."

He took a look around the office, which was now spotless thanks to Droop-a-Long's meticulous cleaning from earlier. The coyote had gone to his room after watching one of the Westerns on TV, and he'd taken the other two books with him. Ricochet wished that Droop-a-Long hadn't, though, because now he had nothing to do and no one to talk to. There wasn't anything good on TV after ten, and he couldn't exactly go around town at ten at night and ask people to come down to the office to chat with him. Now that he thought of it, it sounded more like he was trying to arrest people rather than spend a quiet evening playing Go Fish.

He groaned, folding his arms. He was bored. And he absolutely hated to be bored.

"I guess I'll jus' turn in, too," Ricochet decided. He got up from his chair, and started to walk upstairs, only for something to catch his eye. The first of the romance novels that Denise had sent Droop-a-Long sat next to the spare phone. He shook his head and continued to head upstairs. As bored as he was, he wasn't so bored he'd pick up the thing he didn't like and read it.

After all, he'd made it clear to Droop-a-Long that he didn't like romance novels.

Then again, Droop-a-Long did say it had adventure in it. And he did have a love of adventure.

He'd made it clear to Droop-a-Long that he didn't like romance novels.

There was probably suspense in there, too. And suspense never failed to keep his interest.

He groaned as he started back down the stairs, grabbed the book, and went back upstairs to his room. "Darn you, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet muttered. His will hadn't been strong enough.

He opened the doors to his room, pausing only to turn on the light. In a matter of seconds, a dark amber light filled the room from the ceiling, and Ricochet made his way inside, taking off his cowboy hat and setting it on the doorknob of his closet. His room was smaller than Droop-a-Long's, and as such, there weren't a lot of things he had inside. Most of his things were set in a trunk that rested at the end of his bed, while everything else that couldn't fit in the trunk went in the closet.

Setting the book on the desk, Ricochet went to his closet and got dressed for bed. After hanging up his vest, he turned on the lamp, went over to his desk, and turned off the overhead light. Gathering the book in his hands, he hopped into bed, fluffing his pillow.

Ricochet sighed as he read the cover. _"Maybes and What-Ifs_ by Felicia Rodriguez. Heh, the main characters kinda remind me of Droop and Denise. Well, let's see what hooked those two on this novel, huh?"

With that, he opened the book to the first page and started to read...

 _X_

 _"Our decision is final, Gwendolyn. We have arranged for you to marry Sebastian Starkweather in order to combine his fortunes with ours."_

 _"It's in everyone's best interests, Gwen. You still get to be a part of the High Society, and you have an influential businessman as your husband. You'll be well-cared for, and you might just learn a thing or two in the process."_

 _I felt as though the air had been knocked out of my chest._

 _My mother and father stared me down, their faces calm and peaceful...which was the opposite of what they had been feeling moments ago. They had yelled and screamed at me until their voices had gone hoarse, their faces the color of a tomato. When they had stopped talking, I figured I had won against them again. They could never say no to their oldest daughter. They just couldn't._

 _So when my father told me that I wasn't going to marry my childhood sweetheart, Ashton, and my mother told me that they had arranged for me to be placed with a person named Sebastian Starkweather, I couldn't say a word. I looked into their faces and saw that no amount of pleading or bribing would get them to change their minds. Their eyes were set into steel, hard glares._

 _I did the only thing I could do: say that I understood like the good, responsible daughter I was supposed to be, and then I ran upstairs, fell on my bed and cried._

 _Were my parents trying to utterly humiliate me? Sebastian Starkweather is a coyote from the same estate that we live in! I've never met him, but I've heard enough to know that he's an unpleasant person. He's greedy, he's overly ambitious and charms people right out of their funds. That's to be expected, given what he is._

 _And now..now I'll never see Ashton again. I'll belong to Sebastian and he'll be free to do whatever he likes with me. When a woman marries, she gives up all hopes of retaining her independence; her husband now rules over her and her children, whom she'll be expected to take care of._

 _The mere thought of having children with him of all people sickens me...But I suppose I shall have to grin and bear it, as I do whenever I encounter unpleasant things._

 _And I have the feeling that this is going to be most unpleasant._

 _X_

Ricochet looked over at the next page, where the second chapter was listed. He couldn't believe he was saying this, but he was much more wide awake than he was a few minutes ago. Even though the first chapter had been incredibly short, it'd been enough to interest him. So many questions rang through his mind as to what this rebellious, spoiled girl was going to do now that she was being married off to her worst enemy.

All he had to do to find out was to keep reading.

He sighed. There was no need to even try and resist. "Well, I guess one more chapter wouldn't hurt. But after this, I'm headin' to bed."

Ricochet would eventually go to bed...after two hours had gone by.

Gwendolyn and Ashton had been broken up by her parents was because the two were trying to rush their relationship a little too fast, and had been caught in the act as well-thankfully, they didn't go into excessive detail about it, but Ricochet still couldn't help but blush at the descriptions. In order to avoid scandal and to teach their daughter a lesson, they had her married off to Sebastian, an arrogant and ambitious coyote that Gwendolyn hated. When they met for the first time at a party to welcome some new neighbors into the high society, they got off on an uneasy foot; both of them remarked that if neither of them were the species that they were, they would be quite attractive. After that came the wedding, followed by bits of bickering between them that drove both sides of their family crazy.

Despite having gotten off on the wrong foot, the two slowly got used to their personalities and, though they wouldn't admit it, secretly admired each other for them. Gwendolyn would eventually appreciate his determination and kind nature, while he would appreciate her honesty with her feelings and her not breaking her word on things that mattered to her. This admiration started to turn into love, but both of them found it hard to admit their feelings for each other because of their pride. Plus, Ashton, upset at having been jilted, was now trying to win her heart back, while another ambitious business owner attempted to get the goods on Sebastian by using his daughter, Catherine, to try and woo him over.

By the time Ricochet had gotten tired enough to stop reading, it was one in the morning. He sighed as he put the book back on the table. He had to admit that it was pretty good...for a romance novel. Upon hearing Droop-a-Long's snores, he realized that Droop-a-Long might take the books back into his room and read them. And he knew the coyote would find it odd if he suddenly asked for the books when he'd clearly told Droop-a-Long that he wasn't interested in them.

Ricochet sighed. "Well...guess I'll have to read this when I'm finally alone," he said. "But how can I read it when Droop-a-Long's probably gonna be about?"

After pondering on this for a moment, he snapped his fingers. "I've got it!"

* * *

 _The next morning...  
_

"Here's your coffee, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Ya look like you need it."

Indeed, Ricochet did look exhausted, what with his bloodshot yellow eyes and slouched over demeanor. He perked up slightly when he saw his deputy come over to him with a cup of coffee. "Thanks, Droop-a-Long," he said, taking the cup from him.

"Paperwork keep you up all night?"

It took all it had in him to not visibly jump at that question. "Yep," Ricochet said. That was part of the truth. "There was a good bit of it, too." Now that part was a complete lie. He hid his unease behind his cup of coffee.

"Well, at least you got it all done, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Iffin' you don't need me to do anythin' right now, Mr. Ricochet, I'll be off to read my book."

Ricochet knew it was time for him to put his plan into action. "Actually, Droop-a-Long, I'm kinda in the mood for those carrot cake biscuits," he said. "I'd get 'em myself, but I figured I may need to stay by the phone jus' in case."

"Yeah. Someone might need your help today," Droop-a-Long said. "I'll run by the diner and get those biscuits for ya, Mr. Ricochet."

"Thank you, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet answered. "I appreciate it."

"No problem," Droop-a-Long replied as he lumbered over to the door. "I reckon it should be open right about now." And with that, Droop-a-Long was gone.

After waiting for a few seconds to make sure his deputy wasn't coming back, Ricochet pulled the book out from under the pile of paperwork on his desk. A wide grin broke out on his face as he turned to the page where he had left off. Being a speed reader, he was already in the middle of the book. "Droop-a-Long doesn't know that this is the real reason I'm so tired. But I ain't gettin' any sleep 'til I find out what's gonna happen at the end," he said. Leaning back in his chair, he reclined his feet on the table and started to read. "Now, to finally wrap up this subplot once and for all."

No sooner had he gotten to the third page than the door suddenly burst open, causing Ricochet to shriek with surprise and jump out of his chair. Standing in the doorway was Droop-a-Long, who was holding a big white box.

"Oh, Mr. Ricochet, you're gonna love this!" he said. He then looked at the book in Ricochet's hands, and then at the sheriff himself. "Ain't that the book Denise sent me?"

Ricochet's face felt like an inferno. He looked at the floor, utterly embarrassed.

"Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked. "Are ya alright?"

"Uh...w-well, Droop-a-Long, this ain't what it looks like..."

"It looks like you ended up readin' a certain part in that book, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Ta be honest, I was redder than a tomato, too..."

"That ain't the reason why, Droop! And I ain't even near that part!" Ricochet said. He then realized that he'd just busted himself, and he sighed. "Ah, you caught me, Droop. Truth is, the reason I was so tired was because I stayed up late readin' this book-and then stayed up an extra thirty minutes thinkin' about it." His cheeks burned even more with embarrassment. "And now...I can't put it down."

Silence filled the office for a few moments. Then, Droop-a-Long said, "You know, I kinda felt the same way you do about those stories, Mr. Ricochet."

"You did?" Ricochet asked.

The coyote nodded. "I didn't like them either, until Denise actually read them to me," he said. "Afterwards, I realized that they weren't so bad after all. I guess that's what you meant by 'never judge a book by its cover', Mr. Ricochet."

"Yeah, pretty much," Ricochet said. "I didn't think I'd be learning that myself..."

"So, ya do like the story, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Yes, Droop-a-Long, I do." Clearing his throat, he added, "But even if it is good, I'm not that into the story like you and Denise are."

Droop-a-Long doubted that. He could see that Ricochet was nearly to the ending of the book, even though he'd had it for only a few hours yesterday. It was right then that a naughty idea came into his mind. He couldn't help but snicker, and Ricochet looked at him, his expression turning into a suspicious frown.

"What's on your mind, Deputy?" he asked.

"Oh, nothin' much, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered.

"Now, Droop-a-Long, you know I don't like it when you keep stuff from me," Ricochet said. "What are you hidin'?"

"I was jus' wonderin' if I should tell you about how the book ends, with Gwen and Ashton gettin' hitched off while Sebastian's left aaaalll alone. Oh, and Catherine ends up dyin' near the end of the book." Droop-a-Long turned around and sighed, shaking his head. "A mighty saddenin' ending, if I do say so myself."

He started to walk off, only to be yanked down to a sitting position. Droop-a-Long turned to face a very angry Ricochet, who had a fistful of his tail in his right hand. His face was as pink as his nose.

"WHAT?!" he yelled. "That _can't_ be the endin', Droop-a-Long! Gwendolyn and Sebastian realized they were in love with each other, and right when they were about to confess their feelin's, that's when Catherine cut in and tried to make it look like Sebastian was havin' an affair! Poor Gwen ran off in tears to Ashton's house, and he tried to seduce her and all, but it didn't work 'cause she wised up to his tricks! So why the heck would she go back with him after she found out all the stuff he pulled so he could have her to 'imself?!"

Droop-a-Long was turning purple with his attempts to hold in his laughter. "I-I think ya need ta breathe, Mr. Ricochet..."

After taking a moment to calm down from his outburst, Ricochet said, "If that's the case, I'm never readin' to the end of the book. That...that's jus' wrong!"

"W-Well, Mr. Ricochet, it seems you were payin' attention to what happened in the story," he wheezed.

"And you weren't? How come you know that's the endin' for the book?"

"'Cause that ain't the real endin', Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered.

Ricochet blanched, and Droop-a-Long couldn't hold in his laughter any longer. He started to laugh so hard that he had to hold his sides to keep from falling over. It took a second for Ricochet to realize just what Droop-a-Long had done, and his expression turned less stern.

"Very funny, Droop," he said, giving his deputy a mock glare. "That was mighty clever of you to do that."

Droop-a-Long regained control of himself to look at Ricochet, who had walked back over to his desk. "S-Sorry 'bout that, Mr. Ricochet. I-I was just havin' a little fun. Honestly, I didn't mean to make ya that mad," he said. "But I'm not gonna tell you how the book ends for real, since you're enjoyin' it so much."

"I told you, Droop, I ain't enjoyin' it _that_ much," Ricochet replied curtly, putting the book aside to start the day's paperwork.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Ricochet. What I was tryin' to say earlier was that the shop was givin' out those carrot cake biscuits for free, so I got a big box of 'em to last you a week," Droop-a-Long said.

"Thanks, Droop," Ricochet said. "And...make sure you keep this between us, alright? The last thing I need are people startin' to wonder if I'm crazy."

"Alright, I won't tell," Droop-a-Long answered. "If anybody asks about the books, I'll jus' say you like readin' in your spare time."

Ricochet could hear the teasing tone in Droop-a-Long's voice, and turned towards his deputy with another frown. "Droop-a-Long..."

"O'course, I could jus' mention that he likes a specific type of books..."

He barely missed the book that came flying at him by an inch.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I love writing a mischievous Droop-a-Long and an embarrassed/bristled Ricochet. And one wonders why I have Droop-a-Long listed as The Gadfly on my TV Tropes page.  
**_

 _ **I did have a modern day version in mind, where Ricochet ends up getting hooked on a soap opera that Droop-a-Long and Denise watch, but I thought the romance novel idea was funnier. In the cartoon, there are some inaccuracies (there weren't any TVs or cars, or much electricity in the West), so I had those reflected in this story, as well as some other chapters, in order to be faithful to the cartoon.**_

 _ **The novels were kind of inspired by British TV serials that adapted classic romance novels, such as "Wives and Daughters" and a couple of other shows I saw on Netflix. I thought it would be funny if Ricochet had another little guilty pleasure; personally, I think that his main guilty pleasure would be sugar, considering how much he loves those carrot cake biscuits.**_

 _ **And I figured that Felicia would write a romance novel, since she's rather feminine in general.**_

 _ **Not sure what I'll do for next short; if anybody has any ideas, feel free to tell me in your reviews! Constructive criticism is great as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	11. Short 11: The Only One I Can Trust

**A/N:** Chapter 11 of _Blazin' Trails_ is here, and it's going to be the saddest entry thus far. Since it's inspired by another friendship prompt on Tumblr, I've decided that I'll place it at the very end. The only warning I'll put up is that it's got major character death.

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own anything, other than Denise, Bucky, the attorney and Melissa. **  
**

* * *

 **Story 11: The Only One I Can Trust**

"Sheriff, do you think that you'll make it through this?" one of the townsmen asked.

"I-I have to. He would've wanted it that way," Droop-a-Long answered, trying to control his trembling. He sighed as he wiped his eyes.

The man nodded, and the two remained respectfully silent, save for a few sniffles from the small rabbit next to Droop-a-Long. The coyote looked down at the boy, who was holding a purple hat close to his chest. Tears spilled from his yellow eyes, which were bloodshot from all the crying.

"It's alright, Bucky. It's alright." Droop-a-Long gently put an arm around the rabbit, pulling him close to his side and patting him on the shoulder. His breath hitched in his throat, which signaled that he was about to burst into tears. He swallowed a lump in his throat, feeling his lips trembling again. He could only hope that the tremors didn't go down to his arms.

He didn't want Ricochet's son to have to worry about him, especially now of all times.

It felt surreal, watching the casket being lowered into the ground by the pallbearers. Even more surreal was knowing just _who_ was inside the casket. Ricochet Rabbit, the toughest, fastest sheriff Hoop 'n Holler had ever seen, was dead, a victim of an outlaw's bullet. He'd been bleeding out on the desert floor, but he told Droop-a-Long to go after the outlaw and not worry about him; shortly after that, he'd lost consciousness. By then he'd lost track of the criminal, and when he made it back to help Ricochet, it was too late. Droop-a-Long had had to break the news to everyone in town, and the response had been automatic. Everyone in town had mourned the sheriff's passing, but no one more so than Ricochet's son, Bucky. As his mother was out of town, Droop-a-Long had taken him in the night after his father's death, and he'd had to comfort the boy in the midst of his own grief.

The next day, he learned that he'd been appointed as the sheriff of Hoop 'n Holler almost immediately after Ricochet's death had been confirmed, and his first task had been to arrest the outlaw who'd killed his best friend. That task was one Droop-a-Long had succeeded at; he'd given chase for two nights straight, and when he'd finally caught him, he didn't bother telling the outlaw to put his hands up. He'd simply pulled out his six-shooter and coldly told him that unless he wanted to be killed instantly, like Ricochet had been, he had better surrender. The outlaw in question, Slowpoke Sloane, had immediately complied, and Droop-a-Long had him sent to the county jail.

He'd gotten justice for his best friend and his son, but he still felt guilty. If he had stopped to help Ricochet instead of running after the man like the sheriff had told him to, he could've gotten him to the hospital, to get the bullet out of his chest. Ricochet would still be alive if he had done so; he'd be laid up in a hospital bed, complaining about how he should be out catching criminals, but alive, nonetheless.

Wondering about the what-ifs only intensified his guilt and made the weight on his chest even more unbearable. He couldn't stop the tremors from reaching his arms, and Bucky looked up at him with surprised eyes. Droop-a-Long felt his knees give out and he sank to the earth, his knees colliding with the soft mud. Tears spilled from his eyes like water from a burst dam, and heaving sobs racked his frame.

"M-Mr. R-R-Ricochet...I-I'm so s-s-sorry..."

That was the last thing he said before he dissolved into tears.

* * *

 _A few days later...  
_

"I'm glad you could make it here, Sheriff. I wasn't able to get in contact with Bucky's mother, Melissa."

Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet's attorney, Atticus Hayseed, in surprise. He found it odd that Ricochet's wife, Melissa Starkweather, hadn't appeared. She had been at the funeral and had been inconsolable when she'd gotten the news. She and Ricochet had been a good pair, but their jobs demanded them to be apart from each other for a long time, which had proven difficult when they had Bucky. Although the two hadn't split, it was still surprising to see her in Hoop 'n Holler.

The fact that she hadn't shown up when the attorney was going to read her husband's will was worrying to Droop-a-Long.

"Shucks, that's odd. I-I guess I'd better read the will and tell her what it says," he said.

"Funny you should say that, because I was going to, seeing as you're the only other adult here."

"I'm flattered, Mr. Hayseed, but I ain't part of Mr. Ricochet's family. I'm more o' the family friend."

"Well, Ricochet apparently deemed you as such. Normally, we allow the spouse or the parents of the deceased to read the will first, followed by those who were friends of the family as you said," the attorney said. "However, both of Ricochet's parents are dead, and Melissa hasn't made her appearance. And seein' as you and Ricochet were close friends..."

"Ah...I see," Droop-a-Long answered. He was still stunned that Ricochet had named him in his will. He didn't know what the sheriff had been thinking when he did that, but he supposed he'd have to find out. "W-What did he leave for me?" He almost wanted to kick himself for how greedy he'd sounded.

"Oh, some of his possessions. He's left a good sum of money for you," the attorney said. "Also...he's named you as the legal guardian of his son."

Droop-a-Long stared at him in shock, his eyes wider than dinner plates. His mouth twitched for a moment, but he couldn't say anything. Hayseed stared at him, gauging his reaction.

"It is a lot to take in, Sheriff, but...these were his last wishes. He came to me a few months before in order to edit his will," he said. "I remember he'd been a bit melancholy that day."

"It was 'cause he'd had a fight with Melissa," Droop-a-Long clarified. "They were arguin' over who'd get custody over Bucky in case he...died." He shook his head, wringing his hat like a washcloth. "I still don't understand..."

"You've met Bucky before, right?"

"Have I?" Droop-a-Long chuckled a little. "I was there when he was born; held 'im, too. I used to go to their house lotsa times to watch him when either of 'em were gone. Bucky and me get along well to the point where he calls me 'Uncle Droop', like my nephew Tag-a-Long does."

"Is Bucky close to his mother?" Hayseed asked.

Droop-a-Long shook his head. "Not really, I'm afraid. The two of 'em would get into it often. I'm guessin' that's why Melissa didn't come down here," he said. "She must've known that havin' him with her wouldn't work out in the long run. That...and she still misses Ricochet."

The attorney nodded. "That wouldn't be in Bucky's best interests, now, would it?"

"No...but I'm still confused," Droop-a-Long said. "Why would Ricochet name me as the legal guardian?"

"I figured you'd ask." The attorney pulled out a note from his desk and handed it to the sheriff. "Ricochet had dropped this letter off a week before, saying that he'd want you to read it when I told you what was in the will. He said he'd figured you'd be confused by his decision, so he wrote a letter to explain things."

"T-Thanks, Mr. Hayseed." Droop-a-Long shakily accepted the letter and unfolded it. After taking a deep breath to calm himself, he opened up the letter and started reading. He had to choke back a sob when he encountered Ricochet's blocky handwriting.

 _Dear Droop-a-Long,_

 _Well, I guess if you're reading this, it means I'm gone-by now, they've probably appointed you to be sheriff. If they didn't, I may have to come back as a ghost to kick some sense into the mayor. If there's anybody who's gonna take my place as sheriff, I'd rather it be you. Of course, I'll let you pick out a deputy of your own._

 _I know the attorney already told you that I'm leaving some of my money with you, just in case you need it for an emergency. I'd tell you to spend it wisely, but to be honest, I really wanna see you take care of that "issue" between you and Denise. Seriously, Droop, marrying her isn't that hard to do! You get anybody to make a gold ring for you if you have the right amount of cash, and then just ask her!_

 _...I'm getting off track, aren't I?_

 _Droop, I know that taking in Bucky's going to be a difficult task, since I know you well enough to know that you're hurting because of my passing. Melissa was right about him being the spitting image of me; he's got the same temper and the same ego that I have. And he and I were real close. He and his ma don't get along that well, though I wish they did. I wouldn't have asked you if you did._

 _But since that's not the case, I've named you to be the legal guardian because you're the only one I can trust with this responsibility. It's not that I don't trust my wife. I trust her with my life. But me and her had the same problem: we're too wrapped up in our jobs. Melissa's away often, and she can't be around to take care of Bucky. And then, like I said earlier, the two of 'em don't get along that well. I wouldn't want Bucky getting himself into trouble because he's got issues with his ma._ _ _And before you ask, we did discuss this and decided that this would be the best idea._ You'll be surprised with how long it took me to convince Melissa to see my point. She may not look it, but she's pretty darn stubborn about some things. Even so, that's why I love her.  
_

 _Another reason is that you've told me before that you're good with kids, and that shows with how you hit it off with Bucky. When he's not trying to be like me, he's talking about the things you show him. You're the one who taught him how to throw horseshoes and play baseball; I wasn't around to do that. I want Bucky to be with someone he trusts, and he trusts you a lot. It's gonna be hard for you and him to adjust to this, but I know you'll do fine. I don't have to ask you to promise me that you'll take care of my son, because I know that you will._

 _Just don't wallow in grief forever, Droop-a-Long. No matter what you think, you're not responsible for whatever happened to me. The last thing I want is you beating up yourself for something that happens to everybody. And do take care of yourself, okay? Grief tends to really wreck appearances, after all.  
_

 _There's nothing much left to say, other than thanks for being my best friend after all these years. I couldn't have asked for anybody else to be my deputy, or my best friend.  
_

 _Your pal,_

 _Ricochet_

 _P.S.: Actually, there was one thing left to say. If you chicken out on using that money for your proposal, I'm gonna come back as a ghost and kick some sense into you, Droop!_

Despite the sadness welling inside him, Droop-a-Long couldn't help but laugh at that postscript. Ever since he'd told Ricochet about his relationship with Denise, the rabbit had been giving him nudges towards proposing to her-all of them rather blunt, just like his nature. He wiped the tears from his eyes, wishing that he could tell his friend just how honored he was.

"Do you find everything satisfactory, Sheriff?" the attorney asked.

Droop-a-Long nodded. "I-I do," he said. "H-How soon can I pick up Bucky?"

"You can take him home today, if you'd like," the attorney said. "We don't have anybody else who can take him in at the moment. The person who took him in during the funeral has to leave today."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Alright. I'll tell Denise, and we'll take him in."

* * *

 _Later that evening..._

Droop-a-Long looked down at the sleeping Bucky, who had his arms wrapped around his waist. He smiled softly, and scratched him behind the ears, watching as the little boy sighed contentedly. He looked up at the ceiling, the events from earlier that day flooding his mind.

So far, things were progressing well. Melissa had come by not long after he'd finished speaking with the attorney, saying that she would be leaving for work soon but she wanted to say goodbye to her son and help Droop-a-Long get his house prepared for Bucky's arrival. Seeing as Denise had been out, he had agreed. After several hours, they'd set up his room and had walked back to Ricochet's house to get some of Ricochet's things. Melissa was planning on selling it and most of his belongings, but Droop-a-Long had wanted to keep some things for himself to remind him of his deceased friend.

Denise had come around with Bucky, and Melissa had told him that she would come by as often as she could, since Ricochet would've wanted her to. After an emotional goodbye, Melissa had left, leaving Droop-a-Long and Denise with Bucky. They had spent the evening playing card games and reading, though most talk drifted back to Ricochet and how much he would have loved to see his son being happy. When it was time for bed, Droop-a-Long had read him an old story, and then Bucky asked him to tell him stories of his father's adventures. Droop-a-Long had obliged him, and had told two stories before Bucky decided to curl up on his side and fall asleep.

It was going to be strange, doing Ricochet's jobs as both a sheriff and a father. He only hoped that he would be good enough for both tasks. Ricochet believed that he was, but Droop-a-Long himself wasn't entirely sure. Insecurities gnawed at his mind and threatened to take center stage. He sighed, his ears drooping down. He knew he shouldn't let his fears overcome him, that he would have to bear with it and move on.

Much to his frustration, he found he couldn't just move on. "This is gonna take longer than I thought."

"What's that, Droopy?"

Droop-a-Long looked up to see the door to their room open and Denise walked in, dressed in a white nightgown that complimented her yellow fur nicely. He shifted over in order to make room for her as she climbed in. "Nothin'. Jus' thinkin' aloud."

"Ah, I see." She looked at Bucky, who was clinging to Droop-a-Long, and smiled. "He's finally sleeping, huh?" she asked.

"Yeah. I read him one of his favorite stories, and we talked a bit about his pa," he said. "After that, he went to sleep."

Denise sighed, her ears folding downwards. "It still doesn't feel right," she said. "I never even got to say goodbye to him."

"Neither did I," Droop-a-Long answered. He draped his right arm over her and pulled her close. "I-It's gonna be hard, workin' as sheriff in his stead. I don't know if I'll be as good as he ever was. I..." He looked down at Bucky again, his fears bubbling on his tongue. Before he could stop himself, he said, "I-I don' even know if I'll be here to take care of 'im, like Ricochet asked me to."

"Now don't talk like that," she said. Her face was set into a stern glare. "You have many years ahead of you, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long's expression was morose as he looked at her. "And so did Ricochet, but he died in the line of duty. I-If the same thing happened to me, I don't know how you'd cope, Denise." His breath hitched again, and he willed himself to control his sobs. "I-I'll feel like a failure to Ricochet..."

Denise sighed. "It's not like I don't understand what you're saying, Droop-a-Long. I do think it's a good idea to have a back up plan in case something like that happens. But the best thing to do, Droopy, is to not think of that. You're worrying about the future far too much. What you need to focus on is the present," she said. "And you'll make mistakes...but that doesn't make you a failure. You told me over and over that what Ricochet told you stuck in your brain."

"Yeah. W-We all make mistakes, but w-we've jus' gotta learn from 'em and move on," Droop-a-Long said, remembering those exact words.

"Exactly. You'll make mistakes, like everyone else. I make mistakes, too. But learning from the mistakes and succeeding is what we all want. And I know that's what you want, Droopy."

Droop-a-Long wiped his eyes. "Y-You really think so?"

Denise nodded, then looked up at her boyfriend with an embarrassed smile. "It sounds weird coming from me, doesn't it?"

"It doesn't matter." Droop-a-Long leaned down and kissed her on her forehead. "What matters is that ya stopped me from worryin' myself to an early grave. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Droopy. I just want to make sure you're okay," she said.

"I will be, 'ventually. It still hurts, losin' Mr. Ricochet," he said. "But right now..." He looked over at Bucky and then at her. "Right now, I'm glad I've got you two by my side."

Denise smiled as she nuzzled herself into Droop-a-Long's fur. At this action, he remembered Ricochet's solution to his "issue". He sighed, biting back the urge to chuckle.

 _That'll have to wait 'til later, Mr. Ricochet._

 **The End  
**

* * *

 _ **This short's inspired by this prompt:** **I don't know what I'll do without you and to top it all off, you've left your only child to me in your will. Granted, I may have taken a few liberties with the prompt, but I think I did well enough that it fit with the story.**_

 _ **I think it would take something like this to bring out more of Droop-a-Long's character. I may do a story where their roles are reversed and Droop-a-Long's the one who dies...but that depends on you. If I feel like it, I may continue this AU.**_

 _ **My headcanon is that if Ricochet were to die, Hoop 'n Holler would have his deputy take his place, and the newly appointed sheriff would have to find a new deputy. Remember how Ricochet was picky about who would be his deputy (chapter 4)? Well, I think he'd carry that attitude over to whoever would be his successor, and I don't think he'd be so rude as to leave his friend without work, especially since he's asked him to take care of his son. I can definitely see this happening if Ricochet was killed.**_

 _ **Melissa is Ricochet's girlfriend who was mentioned in the third chapter of "Have Guitar, Will Travel". In this universe, she's married Ricochet and they've had a son, but they share the same tendency to be married to the job. Her personality's a bit different than it is for when she appears in "Ricocheted Rendezvous", though. She'll probably stay in contact with her son, though, in this universe. Since she and Ricochet both discussed that Droop-a-Long would be a better guardian than her, that's why she left not long after the funeral in this story.**_

 _ **And the reason Droop-a-Long and Denise still haven't married yet is because Droop-a-Long's afraid of what the people would think of them if he did. Ricochet's answer to this is to bluntly state that they should get married regardless. You'll also notice that Ricochet is like this in my AU fics I did for Droop-a-Long/Denise on Tumblr.**_

 _ **Next short will be a lot more funny and have Droop-a-Long/Denise, with a matchmaking Ricochet prodding things along.**_

 _ **Constructive criticism is great as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	12. Short 12: Sugar Junkie

**A/N:** In regards to that matchmaking short being chapter 12, it's still being written, but it's taking a while. And I had a really funny little brainstorm yesterday, which involved one of my headcanons for Ricochet. Chronologically, this little short takes place a month after Short 4, during Droop-a-Long's first month as a deputy.

I hope you all have been having a great holiday break thus far, and Merry Christmas!

 **Disclaimer:** *points at other chapters for disclaimers*

* * *

 **Story 12: Sugar Junkie**

Droop-a-Long yawned as he made his way downstairs, stretching his arms. "Mr. Ricochet's right; nothin' beats a good night's rest," he said. He never thought he'd be getting up this early, but he didn't want to be dragged out of bed again like what happened yesterday. He'd had no idea how strong Ricochet was until he'd found himself being dragged down the stairs.

He rubbed his snout upon remembering that. Bumping his face into the stairs yesterday had been no joke.

He was surprised to see that Ricochet wasn't awake yet, and that breakfast wasn't ready, either. Droop-a-Long took a look at the clock to make sure that he wasn't imagining things. Nope, it was half past seven, and the minute hand barely moved forwards. "I reckon Mr. Ricochet decided ta sleep in this mornin'," he mused. He sighed. "Wish I could..."

Slow as he was, Droop-a-Long was surprisingly adept to picking up habits-or rather, noticing other people's habits and patterns. It was something he'd learned to do while in Shadybrook, when he still lived with his parents, as it helped him keep track of things. His father's morning habits were to drink a small cup of bitter tasting coffee before getting on with the day's chores. His mother's was to make a large breakfast in order to get everyone up, and if that didn't do the trick, her singing would.

As such, he had no problem picking up Ricochet's morning habits. The sheriff woke up every morning around seven no matter what day of the week it was, after which he'd wake Droop-a-Long up and then make breakfast, which usually consisted of something made of vegetables. Ricochet's cooking skills weren't bad by any means-it wasn't comparable to his fare, but it was decent nonetheless-but two weeks of eating nothing but spinach tarts, carrot cakes and turnips had made Droop-a-Long go through withdrawal, almost to the point where he'd considered making rabbit stew. Ricochet had agreed that he could go to the diner across town to get his meat fix, if only so his deputy wouldn't eat him.

Another habit of Ricochet's that Droop-a-Long noticed was that he would drink a lot of coffee throughout the day. When he wasn't doing that, he was either snacking on candy or eating something sweet. Any sweet one could name, the sheriff had a stash of it, and quite a decent sized one, too. Once after a particularly grueling case, Droop-a-Long had thrown away a box of honey buns because ants were coming in the office. That had made Ricochet even more sour than he'd been earlier that afternoon, as he'd been saving them for a treat.

Droop-a-Long had the feeling that Ricochet was more than a little obsessed with sugar. He figured that the reason was due to the long hours and constant travel. But he remembered Ricochet telling him that he was planning to go on a diet and stop eating so much sugary foods, as many of favorite foods happened to be something glazed in sugar. That had only lasted for an hour, as he'd gone straight to a bakery after that and had eaten half of a small carrot cake.

And he doubted that Ricochet was the type to tire out easily. Ricochet was much more energetic than he was, able to keep up a chase even when he'd gotten only a few hours of sleep. He had also seen a Ricochet with far too much energy once, where he'd become borderline hyperactive after taking up judo as a hobby.

Droop-a-Long shuddered at that memory. That experience had been a _nightmare._

Seeing as he was up before Ricochet, Droop-a-Long went through the kitchen picking up anything that had sugar on it, which was pretty much almost everything in the cabinet. He took it and carried it out to the porch, where he noticed that most of the people of Hoop 'n Holler were about. He knew that what he was going to do was probably going to get him in big trouble.

He only hoped that Ricochet would see his good intentions.

"Uh, 'scuse me, sir," Droop-a-Long said, walking over to a man in a green suit. "Would ya like some donuts to take with ya?"

"Donuts? Oh, that's very nice of you, Deputy Droop-a-Long," the man said.

"Wait, you're selling sweets?" someone else asked.

"Well, uh...more like gettin' rid of 'em..." Droop-a-Long admitted.

"I'll give you twenty bucks for the honey buns and the carrot cake!" he said.

"I'll give you thirty for that strawberry shortcake!" a woman said.

"Aw, but I jus'-"

"You know what? I'll make it fifty!" the first man said, pulling out his money.

Droop-a-Long stood there for a second, shocked. Then, he pulled out the boxes of honey buns and carrot cake. "Alright, it's a deal."

After giving the coyote his money and getting his food, the man turned around and shouted, "Hey guys, we've got a whole sale o' sweets goin' on here!"

The people in the street stopped short upon hearing this. A split second later, they all stampeded over to the office in a mass, some of them waving money about in the air.

"Hey, how much for the apple strudels?" someone asked.

"I'll give you thirty for the lemon cakes!" another person said.

As people started bombarding him with money, Droop-a-Long couldn't help but think that his idea wasn't too bad after all.

* * *

 _Thirty minutes later..._

Ricochet closed the doors to the coyote's room and scratched his head, confused. For the first few weeks after he'd hired Droop-a-Long, he'd always had to wake the coyote up. The coyote could sleep through just about anything, and he learned last week that if left alone he'd sleep through an entire day. He'd tolerated a bit of it at first, but yesterday had been pushing it when he slept until two in the afternoon.

To see him up and about would be surprising, but it was a sign that he was taking his job as deputy seriously...or, at the very least, that yesterday's incident had gotten through to him. Even though Droop-a-Long was his best friend, he couldn't afford to have a deputy sleeping on the job.

He went downstairs and made a beeline for the kitchen, prepared to make himself a cup of coffee and get a honey bun before he started work. But when he got there, he found a nasty surprise. All of the cupboards were wide open and the shelves were bare, save for some vegetables and canned food.

He could care less about the canned food and the veggies at the moment. All the snacks were gone. And not just the regular snacks like the potato chips, which had disappeared yesterday without a trace.

The honey buns were gone. So was the leftover carrot-flavored coffee cake.

And the jelly-stuffed donuts.

And the chocolate.

Ricochet's hand balled into a fist and he marched out of the kitchen, fuming. This wasn't the first time someone had stolen his food, but this was taking it too far. Stealing his coffee cake and honey buns were one thing. It was a whole different matter when it came to his chocolate snacks. Someone was going to answer to this, and if they didn't want to talk, he had other methods of persuasion.

No sooner had he crossed the foyer than Droop-a-Long walked in the office, his face set into a wide grin. In his hand was a large wad of cash that appeared to be tied with a rubber band. "Boy, if I'd known I'd get this much money, I woulda sold those sweets sooner!" he said, looking at his cash.

He looked up and saw Ricochet standing there, fuming. His grin disappeared in a flash, his face paled, and he started to shudder. "Oh, horseapples..."

"DROOP-A-LONG COYOTE, YOU'D BETTER HAVE A GOOD EXPLANATION FOR THIS!" Ricochet yelled.

Rather than giving him an explanation, Droop-a-Long turned around and took off running. His hat hit the ground with a soft _plop_ as he did so.

Undeterred, Ricochet took off after him, shouting, "When I get my hands on you, you'll wish you never sold my sweets, Droop-a-Long!"

The residents of Hoop 'n Holler watched Droop-a-Long and Ricochet disappear into the horizon, and then turned back to do their own thing. Stranger things had happened there, after all.

* * *

 _Thirty minutes later..._

"Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet started calmly, facing his deputy with a patronizing glare.

Droop-a-Long looked up at the sheriff from his position on the floor. "Yes, Mr. Ricochet?"

"What gave you the bright idea to sell my snacks?" Ricochet asked.

Droop-a-Long sighed. He may as well get out with it. "Ya eat too much sugar even for a sheriff. I wanted ya to eat healthier. I was gonna throw 'em away, but the folks were willin' to pay, an'...well..."

"But those were my favorite foods, Droop! You jus' don't go and sell people's stuff without askin'!" Ricochet yelled. "An' throwin' 'em away is even worse!"

"I know that, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, "but the last time you said you were goin' on a diet, you ate half a cake an hour after you said you weren't gonna touch sugar again."

"...Did I really say that?"

"I was right next to ya, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet sighed, and his expression softened a little. "Look, I understand that you wanted me to eat healthier, Droop. And I've gotta admit, I've been a little obsessed with the stuff."

"A little?"

"Okay, a _might_ obsessed," Ricochet admitted. "But ya could've jus' told me instead of gettin' me worked up by sellin' my snacks and makin' money off of 'em. That would've saved you a lot of trouble."

"It sure would've. I reckon my arms feel like jelly from havin' them get tied up like this for an hour."

"I had no choice but to hog-tie you, Droop-a-Long. You ran so fast that I almost didn't catch you." Ricochet paused, then said, "Not that you can run faster than me, of course."

"O' course not, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I was jus' gonna dump 'em in the trash, but seein' as all those people were out there..."

"It's alright, Droop-a-Long. Even though ya made a profit offa my things, you did attempt to help me out," Ricochet said. "So I'm not too mad at ya. But you're gonna go an' buy back all those snacks with the money ya made."

Droop-a-Long could have cried with relief. "Oh, thank goodness. For a minute, I thought I was gonna be fired."

"You pull somethin' like this again, an' you will be, Droop. Are we clear on that?"

"Crystal clear, Mr. Ricochet."

"Good. Now I have one more question to ask you," Ricochet said.

"What's that, Mr. Ricochet?"

"I know you told me who you sold those other snacks to. But I wanna know what happened to my chocolates, Droop. Ya didn't mention anythin' 'bout those."

Droop-a-Long froze. "Your chocolates?"

"Yes, my chocolates," Ricochet repeated.

"Uh...I hope you won't be too angry at me, Mr. Ricochet, but I ate 'em."

"...what did you just say, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet's tone was dangerous.

Droop-a-Long gulped. "Uh...can ya untie me so I can start runnin' again?"

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I realize that Ricochet and Droop-a-Long maaay be a bit OOC in this for the sake of the funny. Even so, I still think this is hilarious. I'll leave it up to your imagination on what happened to Droop-a-Long.**_

 _ **My headcanon, as shown by this short, is that Ricochet is a sugar junkie; I figured he would be since he drinks a lot of coffee. I personally think that he has a weakness for chocolate, but honey and cinnamon would probably be close contenders. And in my other shorts, he's shown snacking on a lot of sweets, so I think that this would be his main guilty pleasure, aside from those romance novels.**_

 _ **There will be two other shorts explaining what happened to Droop-a-Long for him to get dragged out of bed, as well as when Ricochet got extremely hyperactive. But that'll be later along the line, I guess.**_

 _ **Next short may be another idea I've had in my notebook for a while, since it's going to take a while for that matchmaking short to be finished. Let me know what you think of this short in your reviews!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	13. Short 13: It's Alright, Mr Ricochet

**A/N:** Hey there, folks! It's been a while since I've come back to this. Just to let you know, I haven't run out of ideas for more stories featuring Ricochet and Droopy...in fact, it's the main reason why I can't end this story, because I have so many ideas that I want to share that I can't simply end it. Well, looks like I'll have to change my poll _again_.

I know I have a lot of angsty friendship stuff in this story, but...the ideas just wouldn't leave me alone. I originally published this on Tumblr, but I edited some things for this version. And with this, I conclude the "Taking the Bullet" trilogy, so to speak.

 **Disclaimer:** *Points at other chapters for disclaimers*

* * *

 **Story 13: It's Alright, Mr. Ricochet**

 _He could hear nothing except his own breath echoing through the tunnel as well as the pounding of his heart. Ricochet ran as fast as his legs would carry him, rebounding off of the bumpy cave walls as he raced towards the heart of the mine. His ears picked up the sound of demented laughter farther up, followed by a yell._

 _"Halt, or I'll fire!"_

Droop-a-Long's got him cornered, _Ricochet thought._ I'd best be hurryin' up; he won't have the advantage for long!

 _After rebounding off of another wall, he found himself nearing the end of the track. He skidded to a stop, kicking up wood and sending a few chips into his heels. The pain was the least of his concerns, however, as the tunnel ahead of him lit up with flashes of yellow light. Gunshots followed moments later, and deep within came another scream._

 _Ricochet leapt over the large gap, his hand shooting out at the last minute to grab a piece of railroad that was hanging off. Swinging himself over, he shot into the tunnel, rebounding off of the walls and heading into the heart of the mine._

 _"Hang on, Droop! I'm comin' to help ya!" Ricochet shouted, skidding to a stop. He looked through the maze of tunnels. "Droop-a-Long! Where are ya?"_

 _Another scream answered his question. The first tunnel at the top, which overlooked a steep cliff, went alight with gunfire. The first person to run out of there was Mad Matt, the criminal that Ricochet had been chasing after. He was wielding a pick, but he looked utterly terrified, especially when a bullet shot his hat off. He jumped back just as Droop-a-Long ran out. His hat was gone, revealing a dangerous expression in his lax green eyes._

 _"Mad Matt, you're under arrest for murder, robbery, home invasion and resistin' arrest," Droop-a-Long said. His tone brooked no argument. "You won' be goin' nowhere for a long time."_

 _Mad Matt's look of terror soon became one of crazed glee. "I'm not the kind of person to hold grudges…but I've got a bone to_ pick _with you, Deputy!" he snarled._

 _Droop-a-Long raised his gun. "Now, don't you try any-"_

 _On pure instinct, Ricochet shouted, "Droop, look out!"  
_

 _That warning alone saved Droop-a-Long's life. Mad Matt swung the pick at Droop-a-Long's head, but he managed to duck just in time. The pick grazed the back of his neck, slicing his bandana off as well as a little of his fur. There was a loud thud as the pick hit the wall. Droop-a-Long moved backwards as Mad Matt yanked his weapon out of the rock wall._

 _"Hang on, Droop, I'm comin'!" Ricochet yelled, running towards both of them. "Keep 'im distracted long enough for me to get thar!"_

 _Droop-a-Long looked relieved at this news. "Got it, Mr.-"_

 _"Yeah, you've got it, alright!" Mad Matt laughed, and swung his pick again in a wide arc. Droop-a-Long wasn't fast enough to avoid the blow this time, and the pick sunk deep into his left side with a sickening crunch. He slammed into the wall with a howl of agony, and his paws desperately clawed at the pick in an attempt to get it out._

 _"DROOP-A-LONG!" Ricochet screamed._

 _"Aw, you need some help getting that out, Deputy? Well, I'm always happy to help the law~!" Mad Matt sang, before viciously yanking the pick out. Blood gushed freely from the wound, and Droop-a-Long screamed again, clutching his side with both paws. He fell to his knees, clutching his side and shuddering with each ragged gasp that escaped his throat.  
_

 _Mad Matt laughed, but that was when he was knocked down face first. A tight grip on his neckerchief constricted his airflow, and he heard the cocking of a gun. He turned slightly to face the barrel of Ricochet's gun. The sheriff in question had a fistful of Mad Matt's neckerchief in his right hand, and glared at him with barely-concealed fury._

 _"Nobody does that to my deputy and gets away with it!" he snarled._

 _Mad Matt snickered. "I was just havin' a little fun with the law, Sheriff. He's got some real guts, but to be honest... he's boring after a while. Good thing I've got a replacement, huh?" Mad Matt roughly elbowed Ricochet in the ribs, sending him flying backwards. While Ricochet tried to recover from that, Mad Matt got up from the floor and gave Droop-a-Long a slasher smile, one that made the coyote back away slightly. "It was fun ta play with ya, Droopy, but playtime's over~"_

 _"D-Don' come...closer," Droop-a-Long breathed out, backing away further. He stopped when he felt air with his hand, and he turned around to face the edge of the cliff. His heart leaped. At this rate, he was done for._

 _Ricochet forced himself to sit up, ignoring the burning pain in his ribs to get a glimpse of what was going on. When he saw Droop-a-Long and Matt near the cliff, his eyes widened with horror._

 _"Droop, whatever ya do,_ don't-"

 _The rest of his warning was caught in his throat. With a childlike giggle, Mad Matt shot his foot out and kicked Droop-a-Long in the stomach, hard. With his injury, the coyote was already unsteady; the kick sent him sailing over the edge like a rag doll. A horrible scream of pain and fear filled the mine as he fell into the chasm._

 _Ricochet leaped to his feet and ran to the edge of the cliff, shoving Mad Matt to the ground in the process. Skidding to a stop just two inches from the edge, he stared in horror as his deputy disappeared into the abyss below, his scream slowly fading out as he neared the bottom._

 _And then, like an explosion, a horrific crash rung through the mine. Ricochet could have swore that he heard bones shattering above the sounds of splintering wood…_

 _Mad Matt howled with laughter. "Well, we won't be seeing him anymore!" he cackled._

 _Ricochet sank to his knees, shaking. His heart was going a mile a minute, his fur was matted with sweat, and his eyes were burning with tears. He bit his lip so hard that he drew blood, some of it dripping down his chin._

 _"D-Droop-a-Long…" he whispered, his voice small and hoarse. He looked down into the abyss, remembering seeing his friend disappear, followed by hitting rock bottom. He had been taken out of the fight again, and now his friend was dead because of it._

 _He had been too slow to react, and now Droop-a-Long was dead. And there was nothing he could do about it._

 _It was too much to take in, and he slammed his fist into the ground, letting out a howl of anguish…_

* * *

The horrible scream that resounded through the office made Droop-a-Long burst out of sleep. He looked around, eyes wide. "What the heck?" he gasped. "Where's all that noise comin' fro-"

"DROOP-A-LONG!" Ricochet's bellow could've been heard from miles away. "DROOP, WHERE ARE YOU?!"

Hearing the terror in Ricochet's voice made up Droop-a-Long's mind. He was out of the bed and running to Ricochet's room faster than anybody had ever seen him run before. He didn't bother knocking on the door, as Ricochet had a habit of locking his. A good ram with his shoulders forced the door to give way, but he ended up crashing to the floor. A shriek of surprise filled the air, and then all was silent, save for a groan from Droop-a-Long.

"D-Droop?" Ricochet called out.

"Urgh...M-Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long started, picking himself up off the floor. In the middle of the room was Ricochet, who sat bolt upright in bed, staring at him with wide eyes. Droop-a-Long ran over to the sheriff's side. "Mr. Ricochet, are ya alright?! I heard ya screamin' my name like a banshee!"

"D-Droop...you're alive?" Ricochet said finally.

Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet as though he were insane. "O' course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

Ricochet's face twisted, and then he buried himself in Droop-a-Long's fur. Before Droop-a-Long knew it, he was sobbing uncontrollably. The coyote stared at the rabbit for a long time, not knowing what had brought on this outburst.

"S-Sheriff?" he asked softly. "Are ya alright?"

Ricochet sniffled, and he attempted to quiet his sobs, though a few still escaped his throat. He then raised his head to look at Droop-a-Long, and Droop-a-Long was almost taken back by the sadness and worry in Ricochet's eyes.

"S-Sorry for wakin' ya, D-Droop," he said, wiping his eyes. "I-I'm fine now, h-honest."

"If you were fine, Mr. Ricochet, you wouldn't have screamed for me," Droop-a-Long pointed out. "Ya must've had a nightmare."

"Y-You should know that I don't have n-nightmares, Droop-a-Long. I-I'm fine," Ricochet said. His grip on Droop-a-Long's fur told the coyote otherwise. "I-I mean it, I-"

He was cut off when his deputy put his hands on his shoulders. He looked into Droop-a-Long's eyes, which were filled with concern.

"Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, "you're not alright. I can see it in your eyes. Somethin' spooked ya and you don' wanna tell me about it."

Ricochet sighed. "I…I don't know. I mus' be losin' my mind or somethin'," he said finally.

"I'm pretty sure you're not losin' your mind, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "You've got a good hold on it, unlike that outlaw we chased earlier today. No wonder they called 'im Mad Matt."

Ricochet smiled a little, but it only showed more of his torment. "That's true."

"Ya know ya can tell your deputy anythin', right?"

"Well, my deputy doesn't tell me everythin'. I still haven't forgotten how ya hid your relationship with Denise from me, Droop."

"Ah…I'm-a never livin' that down, right?"

"Not on your life."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Oh, well…"

Ricochet sighed as well, and then scratched his hair. "I…I'm a little ashamed to admit this, Deputy…but regardin' what you said earlier, I'd have to say you were right. I'm not alright. In fact, I haven't been for a while now."

Droop-a-Long looked at Ricochet attentively. "I'm listenin', Sheriff."

"Remember what happened a month ago, when A.T. Sam Jose tried to kill me? When you jumped in and saved me, I…I was plum worried about ya. He almost killed you."

"I know. The doc told me I was one lucky coyote," Droop-a-Long said. He looked at Ricochet with a quizzical expression. "But we hauled him off to prison a month back. Why're you thinkin' about it now?"

Ricochet swallowed a lump in his throat. "I-It's not that I want to think about it, Droop. I wanna get that incident outta my head so I can move on with my life. But every single time we go on a case, all I can think about was 'What if someone gets the drop on Droop-a-Long? What if I'm too slow to do anythin' to save him?'"

"You were thinkin' about that?" Droop-a-Long asked, eyes wide.

Ricochet nodded. "Especially today, Droopy," he said. "When the miners said that you went after Mad Matt in that old abandoned mine after I got hurt, I was about ready to have a heart attack. I thought he'd cornered you and got the drop on you. Thankfully, you pulled through and arrested him."

"I couldn't let ya down, Mr. Ricochet. You would've done the same thing if I was hurt," Droop-a-Long answered.

"That's what I'm afraid of, Droop-a-Long. I…I can't stand the thought of losin' those close to me, especially you," he said. "You're my best friend, Droop, and I don't wanna come close to losin' you like what happened before." He shuddered, and he felt his eyes burn, signaling that he was going to cry again. "M-My nightmare was awful, Droop. When you ran after Mad Matt, I pulled myself together and ran after you two. When I got in there, you were chasin' him, orderin' him to stop. I yelled to let you know that I was comin'…but then h-he swung around with a pick to try 'n chop your head off. You ducked to avoid it, but that was when he swung it at your side."

"Oh, shucks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long gasped, "that sounds horrifyin'."

"It was, especially after I heard ya scream in pain. I started to race over there to help you, but then…that no-good outlaw kicked you backwards, and you went fallin' into the crevice." He sniffled. "I-I was too slow to get to ya. I remember hearin' your scream fade out as I got the edge, and I saw ya d-disappear. Then I heard a loud c-crash, and-"

"That's when ya started screamin' for me," Droop-a-Long finished slowly.

Ricochet nodded, and he wiped his eyes again. "I-It was so real, it was scary. T-That's when I knew that I could never let that incident go. I-I can't even do my job without thinkin' that I-I'm gonna fail, that I'm gonna lose someone I care about." He focused his gaze at the ground. "F-For a split second, I figured that I-I would fire ya, jus' so I could finally stop _thinkin_ ' about it. B-But that'd be too cruel; I wouldn't want you to go without work, and you wanted to be a real sheriff someday."

"I-It was that bad, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"It was. Then I realized that it wasn't you; it was me. I- _I_ was the one gettin' worked up over this whole thing, a-and no matter what I do…I couldn't let it go. My fears are eatin' me alive, Droop, and now I feel like I can't protect people. I feel like I'm useless."

Droop-a-Long shook his head vehemently. "You're not useless, Mr. Ricochet!"

"If I'm not useless, then why couldn't I help you when you needed it, Droop?" Ricochet snapped. "Why didn't I pay attention to what was happenin' around me, before Mad Matt tried to kill me? Before Sam Jose attempted to kill me? If I had done that, I could've nabbed 'im. I could've saved you the trouble of takin' the bullet for me!"

"Mr. Ricochet, I did it ta-"

"I know ya did it to save me...b-but let's face it, Droop, I don' have it in me anymore," Ricochet interrupted, his voice cracking. He then started to sob again, hot tears falling on the sheets. "I-If I can't even k-keep my fears in check…how can I do this j-job? Y-Ya have to be right fearless t-ta be a sheriff round these parts, b-but look at me. I'm a coward..."

"Aw, don't...Mr. Ricochet, don't say that," Droop-a-Long said. "You ain't a coward."

"I-I left you behind on more than one occasion when we were runnin' for our lives," Ricochet said. "W-What kind of friend does that, Droop-a-Long? I-I didn't even come back to check 'n see if you were okay…I-I was bein' so selfish."

"Please don't beat yourself up like this, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, feeling close to tears. "Y-You don't need to quit bein' the sheriff."

"Why not, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet asked. "W-Why, when all it's given me for years was problems?"

"I don't believe that, and I don't think you do either, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "Sure, you had problems…but ya never let 'em get to ya. But I don't think you have to be outright fearless. Everyone's got fears and different ways of handlin' 'em. I'm a little more open 'bout my fears, while you tend to hide yours, Mr. Ricochet."

"I-I don't want people to worry about me, Droop. I tried my darndest to not let this overcome me, but…I couldn't," he said. "A-And I don't think I can be sheriff if I can't remain detached from my job."

"Ya know somethin', Mr. Ricochet? Every sheriff has somethin' that they take personally," Droop-a-Long said. "This incident is hard to deal with, Sheriff, but I reckon you'll be able to pull through jus' fine. You always do. I don' want ya to turn in your badge jus' because someone got the drop on me, or because you've got fears. I reckon you owe it to the town and the West to capture those criminals so that they don't get the drop on any innocent townsfolk."

Ricochet gave Droop-a-Long a tearful smile. "Y-Ya really believe in me that much, huh?"

"I-I do," he said. "You believed in me when I didn't believe in myself, Mr. Ricochet. It wouldn't be fair if I didn't return the favor."

Ricochet embraced Droop-a-Long then, and the coyote returned it, feeling the tears he'd held back well up in his eyes. He'd tried hard not to cry; he really had. But seeing his boss- his best friend, no less-in such a state was too much for him.

"I-It's times like these when I'm glad to have ya around, Droopy," Ricochet said, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "T-Thanks…"

"You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long looked down at the sheriff. "Are ya sure you're gonna be alright tonight?"

"Well, I-I reckon I'm a little frazzled by that nightmare. This is a might embarrassin' ta ask, but…"

Droop-a-Long cocked his head to the side. "What is it, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Can…can you stay in here with me tonight, Droop?" Ricochet asked. "I think I'll sleep much better if you did."

"Okay, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "After all, a deputy helps the sheriff out. It's their sworn duty ta do so."

Ricochet smirked a little. "Well, I'm pretty sure fightin' nightmares ain't part of a deputy's job. But it helps."

A little while later, both Droop-a-Long and Ricochet were settled into bed. Due to Ricochet's bed being smaller than his own, Droop-a-Long's feet were resting on top of the baseboard. He paid that no mind, however, as he turned towards Ricochet. Rather than lying on his side of the bed, he was resting on Droop-a-Long's shoulder, his arms wrapped around the coyote's upper arm. The sadness in his eyes could have been seen for miles.

He'd seen Ricochet at his weakest before, but he never thought he'd see him like this. He never thought he'd see his best friend get so worked up that he considered giving up what he loved doing. Seeing his friend in such a state made Droop-a-Long's heart sink, as well as make him resolve to not run into danger without the sheriff again. The last thing he needed was Ricochet giving in to his fears.

"Are ya okay, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"A-A little," Ricochet said, sniffling.

Droop-a-Long patted Ricochet on the shoulder. "It's alright, Mr. Ricochet. Everythin's gonna be alright," he said. "There's nothin' for ya to worry about. I ain't plannin' on dyin' anytime soon. 'sides, I reckon you wouldn't let me die, either."

"Come to think of it, you're right. I couldn't let you chicken out on proposin' to Denise, now, can I?"

Droop-a-Long's face heated up with embarrassment. "I-I already told ya that I-" He stopped upon seeing Ricochet try and fail to hide a smile on his face. He sighed resignedly, but then offered up a chuckle. "You really like to rile me up about that, huh, Mr. Ricochet?"

"And I'll keep doin' it, too, 'til ya decide to propose to her yerself, Droop," he said.

"I will soon enough, Mr. Ricochet. Jus' not right now."

"That's what you always say, Droop-a-Long." Ricochet sighed. "Well, it's time we get some sleep. I'm feelin' a little tired now."

"Yeah. Comes mornin', we'll have chores to do." Droop-a-Long yawned. "Goodnight, Mr. Ricochet."

"Goodnight, Droop," Ricochet answered, closing his eyes. "And…thanks. Really, I mean it."

"No problem, Sheriff."

 **The End**

* * *

 ** _Friends have never seen you cry. Real friends have soggy shoulders (or fur, in Droop's case) from your tears._**

 ** _This little idea was bugging me for a while (though not nearly as much as that Noir-inspired Hanna-Barbera story). I kind of felt like writing some Ricochet and Droop-a-Long angsty friendship fluff based off of my favorite short in "Blazin' Trails", "Taking the Bullet". In the original Tumblr story, I didn't write the nigthmare, but I figured it'd add more detail to the story by adding it. This short shows that Ricochet's very affected by what happened to his deputy, and trying to not let his worry show only made things stressful for him. I think this one showed Ricochet's vulnerable side pretty well, as we don't see it in the actual cartoon. And as always, Droop-a-Long was fun to write as always. It's a good thing Ricochet's got a good friend like Droop-a-Long, huh?  
_**

 ** _The next short will most definitely not be as saddening as this. In fact, I have a lot of ideas for humor based ones, with at least one serious one and one bittersweet story. In case you'd like to see them, here they are:  
_**

 _ **Blazin' Trails (Heroic)| Ricochet and Droop-a-Long's adventures and friendship become legend in Hoop 'n Holler, and even inspires a ballad on them. Ricochet and Droop-a-Long, now both old and retired, are touched by this.**_

 _ **Rough Patch (Serious)| After failing to catch a renegade, a heated argument between Ricochet and Droop-a-Long starts up, and this one threatens to split them apart.**_

 _ **Prank Wars (Silly)| Droop-a-Long's developed a mood for prank-pulling, and has been pulling many pranks on a certain sheriff. Ricochet decides to give the coyote a taste of his own medicine by setting up elaborate pranks of his own.**_

 _ **So Long, Droopy (Sad)| After the Mad Matt case, Droop-a-Long seeks a better paying job. Having heard this sort of thing from Droop-a-Long before, Ricochet expects the coyote's search to end in vain…until a call comes in and Droop-a-Long ends up getting the job in another state. (Alternate: Droop-a-Long succumbs to an illness after a year of fighting it. Ricochet struggles to find closure and come to terms with his friend's death. Alternate 2: After the Mad Matt case, Droop-a-Long is asked to be the sheriff in Hoop 'n Holler, leaving Ricochet without a deputy again.)**_

 _ **Acting the Part (Silly)| A TV crew filming a western drama blows through town, and Ricochet has his heart set on the lead role of the main character steely-eyed sheriff Wyatt. When the role ends up going to Droop-a-Long instead, Ricochet's at first very jealous…until he sees the coyote's acting skills up close.**_

 _ **Coming Through (Serious)|A criminal named Mad Matt breaks loose from prison, and goes on a killing spree through Hoop 'n Holler. Ricochet and Droop-a-Long chase him down, but when Ricochet is injured to the point of not being able to help him, it's up to Droop-a-Long to come through and prove his worth as deputy. (Alternate: Ricochet's worst nightmare happens when Droop-a-Long ends up being captured by Mad Matt. Ricochet must save Droop-a-Long with the help of Quick Draw and Baba Looey, as well as his own personal strength.)**_

 _ **Game On (Silly): Ricochet and Droop-a-Long have online gaming competitions on their handhelds. Hilarity ensues.**_

 _ **Birthday Surprise (Silly/Sweet)|Ricochet learns that Droop-a-Long's birthday is on Valentine's Day, and that the coyote was so embarrassed about it that he'd lied to Ricochet about his birthday. Ricochet decides to cheer him up and throw him a surprise birthday party, only for his attempt to backfire spectacularly.** _

**_I've already modified my poll, so please vote for the next chapter, guys! Let me know what you think of this short in your reviews!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	14. Short 14: Game On

**A/N:** I'm still writing several chapters of _Blazin' Trails_...but this idea won out, simply because it was the shortest-and it was so hilarious that I couldn't resist _not_ posting it. This takes place in a modern-day AU, by the way.

Oh, and bonus points go to those who can figure out the other references (aside from the blatant Mario Kart and Super Smash ones).

 **Disclaimer:** Do I really have to put that I don't own either Ricochet or Droop-a-Long in every freakin' chapter? Oh, well, it's better than getting sued. And I don't own anything Nintendo, of course.

* * *

 **Story 14: Game On**

Droop-a-Long was in the middle of watching his favorite program, _All the Maybes and What-Ifs_ , when he heard the doorbell ring, followed by a series of staccato knocks on his door. He sighed as he got up from the couch, remembering to turn off the TV before he opened the door. Ricochet tended to forget about the reason why he came over whenever soaps were on.

He opened the door, and there stood Ricochet with a wide grin on his face and holding up two things: the first being a game case, and the other being a square-like device, colored red and decorated with a sword, a shield and a triangular symbol. "I finally bought it today, Droop! I'm still waitin' to get my hands on a Wii U so I can buy _Mario Kart 8_ , but _7_ 's not a bad game to have either."

"I had cleared most of the courses on that game already," Droop-a-Long said. "Ta be honest, though, I haven't played it in a long time, not since I bought that fightin' game Mr. Huckleberry talks about."

"Oh, you mean that Super Smash Brothers game," Ricochet said. "I bought that weeks ago."

"You're always ahead when it comes to games, Mr. Ricochet."

"I sure am, Droop." Ricochet jumped on Droop-a-Long's couch and turned on his 3DS. "How's a couple of rounds of online racin' sound?"

"Sounds good to me, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long picked up his 3DS from under a pile of newspapers. His was colored green and was decorated with stickers of a pink puffball, as well as other creatures. "Let me get the connection set up and then we'll play."

* * *

"Aw, durn. It happened again." Droop-a-Long groaned as his character, Luigi, was caught in a blue explosion, bringing him to a screeching halt while all the other players raced past. "How're you gettin' so many Spiny Shells, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet chuckled as he grinned evilly. "I'm just lucky, I reckon," he said.

Droop-a-Long sighed as he crossed the finish line. He was stuck in eleventh place for the eighth time in a row. "More like you found a cheat, Mr. Ricochet."

"I did not cheat! You know how these Item Boxes are, Droop-a-Long; sometimes they give ya the same item multiple times," Ricochet said. "Like I said, I got lucky."

Droop-a-Long hit the A button and began scrolling through the list of courses. "Wish I had some of that luck. All I kept gettin' was bananas and I had no one to trip up."

"Either way, you're gonna have a lot of catchin' up to do now, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet said. "Oh, let's do Koopa Cape! I love that course!"

"I don' know why I agree to keep playin' Mario Kart with ya, Mr. Ricochet. You always beat me."

"It's jus' because I'm good at racin' games, Droop," Ricochet said. "Now if I was you, I'd quit chattin' and get back to the game."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered, "even though I never win at these things..."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, Ricochet said the words Droop-a-Long was waiting for. "Hey, Droop, ya wanna play another game?"

"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Ta be honest, I was hopin' we could play a fightin' game."

Ricochet looked up at Droop-a-Long in surprise. "You, in the mood to play a fightin' game? That's surprisin', considerin' ya never play anythin' other than that adventure game with the monsters in it." He sighed. "I can't believe that people used to obsess over those games when they first came out."

"Hey, they're good games, Mr. Ricochet. And I play other games, too, but I always play this series. It's hard ta keep up with the generations of 'em, but they're good."

"Eh, it didn't do much for me. I still don't see what the big deal is."

"If I'm right, you were right obsessed with that tradin' card game with the mythical creatures, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long pointed out, smirking.

Silence filled the air for a moment as Ricochet turned pink with embarrassment. He huffed, "That was somethin' different, Droop-a-Long!"

"If ya ask me, it's about the same."

Ricochet sighed. "Ya know you can start some major fights when you say things like that, Droop."

"Good thing you're not a super serious fan, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long paused, then added, "Well, not as serious as you used to be."

"Are ya gonna go on about that, or are we gonna play?"

Droop-a-Long sighed, though he couldn't help but smirk at that. "Sure thing. Though I must warn ya that I've gotten better since we played last time."

"That's exactly what you said before we started playin' Mario Kart," Ricochet said.

"Oh, you'll see what I mean in a little while, Mr. Ricochet."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Ricochet did see what Droop-a-Long was talking about. And being the type to rush into things, he found out the hard way.

Ricochet's main in the game was a boyish-looking angel with a crossbow that doubled into two short swords. He could beat majority of the characters in the game with that character, save for a few. When he and Droop-a-Long decided to have a match, he found that Droop-a-Long's main was a yellow mouse creature with lightning powers. He wasn't too surprised with Droop-a-Long's choice, since the coyote tended to pick characters that were small and cute-looking in any game, but he didn't let that bother him. Droop-a-Long would lose, regardless of how many games they played.

He quickly learned just how wrong he was.

Droop-a-Long's skill with this character, Pikachu, was beyond his understanding. It was like he was competing with a professional gamer. Getting too close to Pikachu led to him being electrocuted and thrown across the stage, which put him at a disadvantage. And when Ricochet managed to somehow get the blasted thing off the stage, Droop-a-Long used his recovery moves to get back on and back to attacking him. He had racked up the character's damage to over 200 percent, and Droop-a-Long was still going after him. Even worse, he was stealing all the items, including the Home-run Bat, the Paper Fan, and the Golden Hammer.

The match was set to ten minutes, but it felt like an hour to Ricochet. By the time the match was over, Ricochet knew he'd lost, badly. Sure enough, the scores pulled up that Droop-a-Long had eleven points while Ricochet had a negative three. Droop-a-Long scored seventeen points in all, and he had lost six of them, two of them being a self destruct. Ricochet had gotten eight points, but he'd lost all of them and suffered three more losses, bring his score to a negative three.

Ricochet glared at Droop-a-Long as the coyote sent him a self-assured smirk. "So, you up for another round, Mr. Ricochet?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm up for another round alright. And this time, we're playin' by my rules!" he said. "This time, no items, Final Destination, second best character you play as."

"Oh, that's gonna be a tough one," Droop-a-Long said. The smirk didn't leave his face. "I have lotsa characters that I'm good at."

"Just pick one, Droop," Ricochet said.

"Hmm...there is one character I'm good at, and that's R.O.B."

"What?!" Ricochet couldn't help but laugh. "Are you kidding? That robot's just there as an antique, Droop."

"Hey, he's not a bad character!" Droop-a-Long protested.

"I didn't care for him much in the Subspace Emissary. And his moveset doesn't match my style."

"You're jus' hatin' on 'im because you like to hack and slash people nonstop."

"That is not true!"

"Is too."

"Is not!"

Droop-a-Long was cut off when he got a notification on his screen. "Hey, who's 'SEStranger237'?"

"Why, I reckon that's Huck! He hardly comes online," Ricochet said.

"I didn't know he was a gamer," Droop-a-Long said.

"Remember that time at Top Cat's Fourth of July party?" Ricochet asked.

"Oh, now I do. He was beatin' everyone at everythin'," Droop-a-Long said. "I reckon he wants to do an online battle."

"Well, he'll have to wait. I have a score to settle with you first, Droop," Ricochet said.

"You were serious about that battle, huh?" Droop-a-Long said, settling into his chair.

"When it comes to video games, I'm very serious, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "Now, are you gonna play, or ya chickenin' out on me?"

"I ain't a chicken when it comes to fightin' games, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "Let's battle."

Ricochet smirked. "This time, you're goin' _down_ , Droop-a-Long."

"Oh, I wouldn't count on that, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long had a competitive smirk on his own as he hit the start button. "I've got more than a few tricks up my sleeve."

The second match was a close one. Ricochet had switched out Pit with another character: a slightly muscular, dark blue-haired man wielding a large gold sword. Despite his slowness, he was quite powerful, and was knocking down R.O.B. every which way and that. Droop-a-Long wouldn't give in that easily, however, which only upped the intensity of the match. However, despite Droop-a-Long's skill with R.O.B., he was no match for Ricochet's skill with Ike.

The match was winding down into the last thirty seconds. Upon hearing Droop-a-Long groan with frustration for the fifth time, Ricochet's smirk grew wider. He had this match in the bag.

And then, right when it was getting to the ten second mark...the game froze. A few seconds later, a little window appeared on the screen.

 _Your connection to other players has been lost. Returning to main menu..._

"...what?" was all Droop-a-Long could mutter.

"ARRGH!" Ricochet, for his part, resisted the urge to throw his 3DS across the room again. "That's not fair! I was jus' about ta win, too!" He then sent an accusing glare towards Droop-a-Long. "You! You must've done somethin' to the connection ta make it do that!"

Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet in shock. "I'd never do that, Mr. Ricochet! 'sides, I was too wrapped up in the game! These things happen, and you know that, too."

Ricochet huffed angrily and crossed his arms. "I can't believe it. Right when I was about ta win..." he grumbled.

"Uh...m-maybe we should do somethin' else, Mr. Ricochet. I reckon you're gonna be steamed about that match 'til dinner time," Droop-a-Long said. "'sides, I think we were gettin' too competitive..."

Ricochet sighed before looking up at Droop-a-Long. "Ya really think so?"

Droop-a-Long nodded. "After all, if you're accusin' me of cheatin'..."

"Sorry, Droop. I guess we do need ta take a break from this game," he said. "So, whaddya think we should do?"

"Hmm...ya wanna catch up on last week's episodes of _All the Maybes and What-Ifs_? I've got 'em on DVR," Droop-a-Long answered.

"About time ya learned how to use that thing, Droop-a-Long. Ya can't count on me to set it up for ya," Ricochet said. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV. "And ya know they have the whole series on Netflix, right?"

"They don't keep up ta date with it sometimes, Mr. Ricochet. It takes them months ta upload new seasons."

"I can't argue with ya there, Droopy." As the show started, Ricochet sat back in the chair with a sigh. "Now this is the life."

"It sure is," Droop-a-Long said. "So, after this, ya wanna play some more games."

"Sure thing, Droop. And this time, nothin's gonna stop me from winnin'," Ricochet replied.

Droop-a-Long sighed, but it was quickly replaced by a smirk. _Competitive to the end, as always..._

 **The End  
**

* * *

 _ **I had a lot of fun writing this one, mostly because imagining Ricochet and Droop-a-Long as competitive gamers is hilarious.**_

 _ **For those of you who didn't get the other references: the creatures on Droop-a-Long's 3DS are Pokemon and Kirby, respectively. I imagine that the stickers he has are some of the Generation 2 Pokemon as well as the newer ones (I kinda got back into Pokemon recently, if you haven't noticed :D) And the other games that Droop-a-Long plays (in my headcanon, of course) are Animal Crossing, Paper Mario, and probably a few others like Scribblenauts Unlimited.**_

 _ **Ricochet's games are The Legend of Zelda, and I imagine that he plays RPGs like Fire Emblem and Bravely Default. Oh, and as for the trading card game, that was a reference to Yu-Gi-Oh...which would be an old shame for Ricochet, in this case :)**_

 _ **So yeah, Ricochet practically owns at Mario Kart, while Droop's more of a fighting game kind of person (though Ricochet's not too shabby either). And losing your connection in the middle/near the end of the match is THE worst possible thing to happen, no questions asked.**_

 _ **And as for 'All the Maybes and What-Ifs', I took that romance novel from "Guilty Pleasure", and modernized it as a soap opera.**_

 _ **Not sure what the next short will be yet, but as I said before, whichever idea I finish first is going to be the next chapter. Reviews are great, as always!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	15. Short 15: Protector---Part 1

**A/N:** Looking back on it, most of the shorts in _Blazin' Trails_ have Droop-a-Long saving the day, although that may be due in part to Ricochet being a spotlight hogger in his own series. So, I decided to have a role reversal this time around, but Droopy's still getting his time to shine.

This short wasn't meant to be dark. No, really, I swear. It started out as slice-of-life, and then it went in a completely different direction. And then, due to the flux of ideas that came from writing it, I expanded it into a three-part arc. That's the way my wonderful and sometimes scary mind works...

For time reference, this arc takes place about 8 or 9 years into Ricochet and Droop-a-Long's careers. My personal headcanon is that Ricochet worked in Gopher Gulch for a good six years before later heading to Hoop 'n Holler to serve as the town sheriff, and appointed Droop-a-Long to be his deputy (which happens in _Breaker of Barriers_ ); Droop-a-Long's been Ricochet's deputy for about 2 years or so.

 **Disclaimer:** I _still_ don't own Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long...

* * *

 **Story 15: Protector  
**

 **Part 1**

The doors to the saloon slammed against the wall with enough force to create a dent in it. Red Eye, the bartender, turned to grab his rifle, which rested on the shelf behind him. To anybody else, this would seem like an overreaction to someone walking in. But crime in Hoop 'n Holler was at an all-time high, and there had been three shootouts at the saloon this week alone. Red Eye was going to show the next patron that if they tried anything funny, they'd have no time to regret it.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. "Howdy, Red Eye! Can ya whip up a carrot cocktail for me? I jus' closed a case and I'm parched!"

The whole saloon gave a collective sigh in relief as Ricochet Rabbit made his way inside, a confident smile on his face. He looked around, surprised to see everyone's reactions. "What's the matter? You're all actin' like I was an outlaw!"

Red Eye gave a nervous smile as he attempted to place the shotgun. "Now, why would we do that, Sheriff?" he asked.

"Well, with the amount of crime goin' on in this town, I reckon that's why you're all on edge," Ricochet answered.

"Crime's gone down a lot since you became the sheriff, Ricochet," Red-Eye said. "You and your deputy are doin' a good job of catchin' crooks."

Ricochet puffed up with pride. "Why, thank you, Red Eye. It's nice to be appreciated." He paused, putting a hand to his chin. "Come to think of it, where _is_ my deputy?"

One of the patrons laughed. "I bet you left 'im behind in the dust again," he said.

Ricochet didn't laugh; in fact, he looked a bit worried. "I'd better make sure he's alright. Can ya hold the cocktail for me until I get back, Red Eye? I shouldn't be gone long."

"Sure thing, Sheriff," Red-Eye said. "Brace yourself, everyone!"

Nobody needed to be told twice. In less than a second, everyone, included Red Eye, was bracing themselves on the tables or any other solid objects they could find. Ricochet was about to shoot out of the saloon when a weak shout of "Mr. Ricochet!" filled his ears. He paused mid-stance, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Oh, he came back earlier than I thought he would," Ricochet said. Setting his foot down, he turned to the patrons of the saloon. "Alright, folks, no need to hold on to the tables for life anymore."

For the second time that day, the whole saloon sighed in relief. Red Eye wiped his brow, which was glistening with sweat. "Whew! I was afraid I'd have ta replace everythin' in my store!"

"I'm sure I'm not _that_ bad with my takeoffs," Ricochet said.

Red Eye was spared from answering by the doors opening. An exhausted Droop-a-Long half-jogged, half-stumbled his way inside, his face red with exertion. He hung over on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

Ricochet ran over to Droop-a-Long. "Droop! Are ya alright?"

"S-Sorry I...took...so long, M-Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long wheezed. "I ran all...the way...here..."

"Aw, don't feel bad, Deputy," a second patron said. "Nobody can run as fast as Ricochet."

"Shucks, that makes me feel better..." Droop-a-Long replied, a touch of sarcasm in his voice.

"Glad I could help!"

Ricochet frowned. "Ya really think so, huh? Can't ya see he's plum tuckered out?" he said. He then turned to the panting coyote, his face a picture of concern. "Now, Droop-a-Long-"

"I-I'll be fine, Mr. Ricochet. Really, I will." Droop-a-Long straightened up from his hunched over position, and gave the sheriff a lopsided smile. "Ya don' have ta worry."

Ricochet's unchanged expression made his smile falter. He sighed. "Could use somethin' to drink, though. Right now, I need a pick me up..."

"Sure thing, Droopy." Ricochet turned to Red Eye. "Red Eye, can ya add an artichoke milkshake to my order?"

"Comin' right up, Sheriff," Red Eye said, and went to grab the ingredients for their drinks.

Droop-a-Long looked down at Ricochet in surprise. "Shucks, Mr. Ricochet, ya didn't have ta-"

"Droop, if I let you have things your way, I wouldn't be doin' much of anythin'. Now, come on," Ricochet interrupted. He then made his way over to a spare table near the door and Droop-a-Long followed, moving slower than usual than because of how tired he was. After Droop-a-Long practically collapsed into the chair opposite of him, the sheriff started with, "Now, Droop, there's somethin' I've been meanin' ta talk to ya about."

"Uh, what's that, Sheriff?"

"Recently, you've been refusin' my help, somethin' that you never do," Ricochet said. "I've noticed that you try to handle things on your own, even when you get hurt or you're overworked. And whenever I try to help ya, you always tell me no."

"I never said 'no' straight to your face, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

"But whenever you say 'Ya don't have ta worry' or 'I'll be fine, Mr. Ricochet', that means no to me. And to be honest, I've been a little worried about that," he said. He frowned. "Has anybody been givin' you problems, Droop-a-Long?"

It took all of Droop-a-Long's willpower to not start shaking right then and there. If Ricochet learned even half of what had happened to him, nothing would keep the sheriff from hunting down whoever had hurt his deputy. He could lose his job simply for protecting him.

"Naw, not at all, Mr. Ricochet," he lied. "Most of the folks here are pretty nice to me."

To his relief, Ricochet bought it. He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "That's good to hear. I guess I got myself all worried over nothin'," he said.

Droop-a-Long knew he should just leave it at that, but he couldn't help but ask, "How come you thought someone was givin' me problems?"

"Because people who get hurt usually don't want help," he said. "Trust me, I've seen it many times durin' my cases."

 _I'm surprised ya didn't see this, Mr. Ricochet._ "I see. It must be pretty rough for 'em, huh?"

Ricochet nodded. "It took a while to get them to open up about their experiences. Those cases were always difficult, 'cause without knowin' who hurt them, I couldn't bring the criminals to justice," he said.

Droop-a-Long nodded, swallowing hard. He knotted his hands together, trying to keep himself together before he completely lost it. Ricochet's words were echoing in his mind on repeat, which were bringing up memories that he wanted to forget…memories of when he first went out and about in Hoop 'n Holler, where he'd first learned that people weren't as nice as Ricochet had said they were. He could still hear their voices, filled with utter hatred.

 _You're not welcome here, coyote._

"Droop-a-Long, are ya okay?"

Droop-a-Long blinked and focused on Ricochet, who was drinking from a cocktail glass and was looking at Droop-a-Long with concern. "I-I'm fine, Mr. Ricochet," he answered. "I was jus' thinking about somethin'."

Ricochet gave him what Droop-a-Long called the "unimpressed" look: one eyebrow raised, the other curled down to his nose, and both eyes set into a half-lidded glare, daring him to explain himself. "Really?" he said. "Is that the best you've got, Droop?"

"N-No, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said lowly. "I-I...I reckon I haven't been real honest with ya..."

"Then why would you tell me that everythin' was alright, when clearly it isn't?" Ricochet continued. Droop-a-Long could hear the anger seeping into his tone, and he winced. "I'm givin' you one more chance to tell me, Droop-a-Long. What is going on with you?"

Droop-a-Long swallowed, and he noticed that his hands were starting to shake. He bit back the urge to swear. "Oh, no, not now of all times..." he muttered.

"What do you mean, 'not now of-"

Droop-a-Long shot to his feet abruptly, knocking over his own milkshake. It splashed on his fur and covered the floor, but he didn't care. He hurriedly made his way out the door, completely ignoring the look of utter disbelief Ricochet was sending him.

Red Eye sighed as he came over to Ricochet's table with a rag. "That's the third time he's spilled that shake..."

"And it'll be the last time, too!" Ricochet jumped out of his chair, frustration on his face. "I'm gonna get to the bottom of this, whether Droop-a-Long likes it or not!"

Red Eye had no time to warn anybody. With a twirling of his foot, Ricochet shot out of the saloon. The gust of wind that followed caused the wooden planks on the floor and several tables and chairs to be swept right through the door, crashing into anybody who happened to come by the saloon. When the gale stopped, Red Eye was surrounded by many disgruntled customers, and spilled drinks.

Red Eye groaned. "And he says he doesn't overdo it with his takeoffs."

* * *

Droop-a-Long made his way to the office, his head down and hands balled into fists. His nails dug into his palms with enough force to draw blood. Many of them looked at him with confusion, but he ignored them. Ricochet's words echoed through his mind, and they only drove him to walk faster. He couldn't fault Ricochet for being angry at his not telling him the truth, but he couldn't have told even if he wanted to. If he did, his life was forfeit, and so was Ricochet's.

His thoughts were halted when someone grabbed him by his tail and yanked him backwards, making him fall on his rump. He gasped, and his blood started to turn to ice. He was in for it now, he was done for...

"Droop-a-Long, it's me."

Droop-a-Long relaxed, but just barely. He turned around to see Ricochet, who stood behind him with a fistful of his tail in his hand. He looked very irritated. "Oh, uh, hi, Mr. Ricochet..."

Ricochet's frown deepened. "What in the world is goin' on with you, Droop-a-Long? This ain't like you!"

"I-I...I jus' can't tell you..."

"You were about to before ya stormed out of the saloon," Ricochet pointed out. He started to say more, but that was when he noticed Droop-a-Long's arms were shaking. He stared at the coyote in surprise. "Droop-a-Long...you're shakin' like a leaf. Why are ya...?"

Droop-a-Long opened his mouth to answer, but someone else spoke up instead. "I can't stand looking at that lumbering fool anymore, Chuck. I'm amazed the sheriff puts up with him."

"You heard what they said, Dave. He's a friend of the sheriff's from Shadybrook."

Both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long turned around to face the speakers. The first one was an average-sized man with a shock of messy black hair, which was hidden under his cowboy hat, and he had dark brown eyes. The second one was short and chubbyy, his brown hair slick with gel. His electric blue eyes were focused on Droop-a-Long like a homing missile.

Ricochet's frown eased, but barely. "And you two are...?"

"The name's Dave," the raven-haired man said. Turning to the brown-haired man, he added, "And this is Chuck."

"Well, then, Dave and Chuck," Ricochet said, keeping his voice even, "why exactly did you refer to my deputy as a lumberin' fool?"

Dave smirked. "More importantly, Sheriff, why exactly did you appoint one of those monsters to be your deputy?"

Chuck snickered. "I guess he wasn't thinking at all."

Ricochet's grip tightened on Droop-a-Long's tail, and the coyote let out a small gasp of pain. Ricochet ignored it, his attention on the men who'd casually insulted him. With a severe glare, he responded with, "Droop-a-Long is _not_ a monster. If you actually got to know him, like I did, then you would know that he's the nicest, most thoughtful person you could ever meet."

Chuck scoffed. "Yeah, that's what all coyotes are, 'til they decide to eat ya. I'm surprised he hasn't tried to take a pot shot at you yet, Sheriff."

Droop-a-Long got up then, so suddenly that Ricochet was almost dragged down. His arms were shaking again, but this time, not of out fear. "How...how dare y'all say that!" he yelled. "You don't know a thing about me!"

"Actually, _Deputy_ , there is something we know about you," Dave said. "You're a nobody who doesn't deserve to work with someone like Ricochet."

Droop-a-Long stopped short, his mouth hanging open in shock. "W-what...?"

"Ugh, I heard he was slow, but this is ridiculous," Chuck groaned. "Dave, would you care to explain?"

"Gladly." The smirk on Dave's face was gone, replaced by an ugly scowl that made Droop-a-Long's insides twist. "We didn't like Ricochet much either when he first came to town, but at least he's got a name to him; his family's got a whole history of bein' sheriffs. That alone commands respect, and he worked ta get it. But _you_...you've got nothin' to your name. You was just a guy who did odd jobs around town. I wouldn't be surprised if your folks said that you wouldn't be nothin'!"

"Yet here he is, deputy to Ricochet Rabbit," Chuck added, "not to mention best friends with the guy, too. And he didn't do nothin' to get the position. I bet he puts up with ya 'cause he took pity on you."

"T-That's not true...!" Droop-a-Long protested, his voice cracking.

Dave and Chuck laughed. "See? Even you think the same way," Dave continued. His smile disappeared just as quickly. "Face it, coyote. You've either got it or ya haven't, and you obviously haven't. You're lucky you're a likable guy, 'cause you've got nothin' else goin' for ya."

Chuck noticed tears falling down Droop-a-Long's face, and he smirked. "He can't even take it like a man. Come on, Dave, let's go find someone else who can take it and not cry like a baby."

That did it for Droop-a-Long. He sunk to his knees and buried his paws in his hands, which made Dave and Chuck howl with laughter. He was barely aware of Ricochet letting go of his tail-all he heard was the rude laughter ringing in his ears and the sobs that were escaping his throat. They were right; he'd never be anything, he really was a lumbering idiot, he didn't deserve to work with Ricochet-

All his despairing thoughts were shaken when he heard Ricochet say six words that made gooseflesh rise on the back of his neck: _"I'll make you eat those words."_

There was a rush of air that dragged Droop-a-Long forwards, making him land on his face. Dave and Chuck's laughter was cut off abruptly, replaced with a scream from Dave. There was a loud crash, wood splintering and glass shattering. Gasps of shock and horror surrounded him at all angles.

"Holy guacamole, did you see that?!"

"Sheriff Ricochet Rabbit just tackled two men through the window of the bank!"

"Someone's gotta stop him!"

Droop-a-Long looked up to see a gaping hole through the bank window, which was quickly surrounded by the townspeople. He jumped to his feet and ran towards the bank, pushing aside a few people and wiping his eyes hurriedly as he burst inside. The men had dressed him down and insulted Ricochet, but he could care less at that point. Ricochet was _furious_ , and he had to be stopped before he beat these men to death.

A wet crunch filled Droop-a-Long's ears, followed by a howl of pain. And then, over the sounds of punches being thrown came a furious cry: "You think that's bad? You ain't seen _nothin' yet_!"

Droop-a-Long turned around, horrified, to see what was going on. Slumped against the teller window was Chuck, his face bloody and bruised, his clothes covered with glass and wood. A revolver lay uselessly in his left hand.

And right in front of Chuck were Dave, who was on the ground, and Ricochet, who was sitting on top of the man's chest, landing punch after punch on his face. Spots of blood and several teeth were on the floor, and Dave's right eye was black and swollen, and his face was lined with cuts. Ricochet's face was spattered with blood in some spots, as were his knuckles. His expression was furious as he continued to beat on Dave.

Droop-a-Long ran over to Ricochet, grabbed him by his waist, and forcibly yanked him off of Dave. Ricochet squirmed and thrashed about, trying to get back to Dave. " _Urgh_...unhand me, Deputy! I'm not through with him yet!"

"Yes, you are, Sheriff!" With some effort, Droop-a-Long dragged Ricochet away from the half-beaten Dave. No matter how much Ricochet thrashed or kicked, or swore, the coyote kept a firm grip on him until he got to the other side of the room. He turned around and placed Ricochet down on the ground, keeping a firm grip on his shoulders. His expression was wrathful. "Mr. Ricochet, you need to calm down right now."

"I will, as soon as I teach that windbag over thar a thing or two!" Ricochet snapped.

"But Mr. Ricochet-"

"No buts, Droop-a-Long! I can take insults, but no one insults you like that in front of me and gets away with it. _No one_!" Ricochet interrupted harshly. "And I'll make sure he knows it, too!"

Droop-a-Long looked down at Ricochet, confused. "But Mr. Ricochet, why would ya do somethin' like that for me? I-I...I'm nothin' special, I'm not fast like you, or famous like you, or smart like you..."

Ricochet was about to say something when a hacking cough interrupted him. Droop-a-Long turned and stared at Dave, who was on his feet and was trying to drag Chuck to a standing position as well. His glare was murderous as he looked at Ricochet and Droop-a-Long. _"You..."_

"You say one more word about my deputy, Dave, and I'll be happy to finish what I started," Ricochet snapped. He tried to lunge forwards, but Droop-a-Long's grip made that impossible.

Just then, a group of townsmen arrived and surrounded Dave and Chuck, shotguns in hand. Dave yanked his arm away from one of the men who tried to grab him, and pointed at Droop-a-Long. "This isn't over, coyote. You'd better watch your back, 'cause you've jus' angered the wrong person."

"Alright, stop talkin' and start walkin'," one of the men snapped. With a shove, Dave and a half-conscious Chuck walked out of the bank with several townspeople.

The teller peered out from behind his desk, and gasped when he saw Ricochet. "Holy cow! Mr. Ricochet, are you alright?"

Ricochet offered a little smile. "I'll be alright, Mr. Pensworth. My knuckles are numb 'n battered, but it was worth it."

"You really gave him a poundin', Sheriff. I'll have to remind myself to never make you mad," Pensworth said.

"To be honest, he was askin' for it," Ricochet said. He then looked at Droop-a-Long. "Come on, Droop, let's get back to the office."

Droop-a-Long still had a lot of questions, but one look on Ricochet's face told him that he'd have to wait until later to ask. "Alright, Mr. Ricochet." Helping the sheriff to his feet, the two walked out of the bank.

* * *

Nearly everyone in town was crowded around the bank, staring at Ricochet with wide eyes. The people's murmuring was like a buzzing in Ricochet's ears, and he did his best to avoid the shocked stares that everyone was giving him. Already he felt spent from the fight, and he could feel more than one piece of glass starting to get under his fur, but he had meant what he'd said to Pensworth and Droop-a-Long.

It was one thing to insult him. It was an entirely different matter when it came to his deputy.

When they reached the office, Ricochet turned to face Droop-a-Long, only to stare at him in horror. The coyote's face was as white as a sheet. "Why, Droop-a-Long, you look plum terrified!" he said.

"Y-You shouldn't have defended me, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. It was nearly ninety degrees outside, but he was shivering as though it were twenty. "N-Now we're really in for it..."

"Droopy, they won't harm me," Ricochet replied. "I'm the sheriff of this town, and they were the ones who started it first."

"Even so...that Dave feller was right. He _is_ the wrong person ta anger. And now, after what you did, h-he's gonna come gunnin' for me!"

Ricochet frowned. "What makes you think he'd go after you? If anythin', he'd go after me, since I clobbered 'im!"

Droop-a-Long didn't say anything. He turned around and closed the door, and stood there for a few seconds. The next thing Ricochet knew, he fell to his knees, shuddering uncontrollably. Ricochet ran over to his deputy, who was starting to sob.

"Droop! Droop-a-Long, what's wrong?!" he shouted.

"I-I...I'm so sorry, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long whispered. Large, hot tears fell from his snout to the floor. "I-I've b-brought this all on you..."

"Brought _what_ , Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet demanded.

"...I c-can't tell ya. I-If I do, then you'll be put in danger..."

Ricochet moved in front of Droop-a-Long, forcing the coyote to look at him. "Droop, you know you can tell me anythin' that's on your mind," he said. "I'm here to help you, not to hurt you. I'm askin' you to tell me what's wrong. And I'm not askin' ya 'cause I'm the sheriff. I'm askin' 'cause you're my best friend."

Droop-a-Long sniffled heavily and moved back from the door, sitting on the floor. He looked at the blood-spattered sheriff, who was giving him a serious expression. "C-Can ya promise to not tell anybody else what I'm gonna tell you, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, putting a hand on his left breast. "Nothin' you say will leave this office."

Droop-a-Long wiped his eyes, taking off his hat to do so. Rather than put it back on, he held it in his lap, twisting the top like a dish rag. Sighing, he started out with, "When I first got here, I thought it was the greatest town ever. I was all set to spend my days workin' as deputy and become a real sheriff. And then...I met Dave 'n Chuck." He smiled bitterly. "Those two offered to show me around town so I could get familiar with it. I agreed to go along, since you were busy gettin' stuff set up in the office for me. I followed them to a darker part of town and..." Here, he swallowed. "They and a group o' big, muscular guys jumped me. I couldn't fight back; I was kicked and punched everywhere. After they saw that I wasn't movin', Dave lifted me up and set me against the wall. He said, 'Did you really think we'd let you in so easily, _Deputy_?' He spat in my face, and then said, 'I hope ya didn't have big plans, 'cause you won't last a week out here'."

Ricochet was both horrified and angered, but he tried to not let his emotions get in the way. "What did you do?" he asked.

"I said, 'When Mr. Ricochet hears about what you've done, he'll put you away for life!' They laughed at me, and then Chuck said, 'What makes you think he'll defend ya, you worthless cur? He's famous and has a reputation to uphold; you've got nothin' to your name. If you mess up, he'll jus' dump ya back in that sinkhole you call a town...or he'll let ya die'. I...I couldn't say nothin' to that. Then Dave said, 'Let's be clear here, coyote; I've got powerful friends in Town Hall, you don't. You mention a word of this to anybody, includin' your next meal, and you'll be a dead dog walkin'-not to mention Ricochet'll make a nice addition to Chuck's collection.' They threw me out of the alley and told me to get out. So I did."

Ricochet's stomach twisted with bile. His fingers curled into a fist. "How _dare_ he..."

"F-For a while after that, I didn't take off my hat to show you the black eye. I was angry...but I was also afraid for my life. Do you know how miserable and scared I was out there, with people callin' me 'the dumb deputy' and 'mindless monster'? I-I couldn't even defend our friendship from them, Mr. Ricochet...people thought somethin' worse was goin' on-"

"Droop-a-Long, stop." Ricochet was starting to shake himself. "I've heard enough."

But Droop-a-Long couldn't stop; everything was flowing from him like a burst dam. "People thought that I was goin' to eat you first chance I got...or they were makin' up horrible stuff about-"

" _Droop-a-Long, that's enough!"_ Ricochet shouted, stopping the coyote's tirade. Tears started to leak from his eyes, and he swiped at them hurriedly. "F-For cryin' out loud, p-please stop..."

Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet for a long moment, shock on his face. He had expected Ricochet to be angry, but not for him to cry. "Why are you cryin', Mr. Ricochet?" he asked.

"W-Who wouldn't cry at that? I-I mean...you've been sufferin' this whole time, and I didn't even notice..." Ricochet shuddered. "W-why didn't ya tell m-me?"

Droop-a-Long sighed, feeling a few tears slide from his eyes. "B-Because they said they'd kill you if I did. I couldn't lose my only friend," Droop-a-Long said. "P-Plus…I didn't want ya to hurt anybody. I-I know how ya are about your friends. You don't let anybody hurt 'em. B-But I didn't want ya to lose your job because you were protectin' me, M-Mr. Ricochet. I didn't want ya to face worse."

"Y-You thought you were protectin' me from danger? Y-Ya only made things h-harder on yourself for not tellin' me sooner! I-I could've arrested them, o-or somethin'!" Ricochet blurted.

"Like I said, some of the folks at Town Hall were in on it, Mr. Ricochet. I reckon there was nothin' you could've done."

Ricochet had to catch himself before he swore. "N-Now I can see why you was so scared, Droop-a-Long. I-I had no idea that I'd trigger somethin' like that…"

"I-It's not your fault, Mr. didn't know. I-I reckon it's mine. I thought I could handle it, but I couldn't. I ain't as tough as you are."

"Y-You don't have to be tough like me, Droop-a-Long."

"But I'd like to be, though. And I can't help but get the shakes when I hear people say those things," Droop-a-Long said. "I-I'm a might sorry I didn't tell you..."

"It's not your fault, Droopy." Wiping his eyes, Ricochet asked, "Is that why you didn't want me to help you? You were that scared?"

Droop-a-Long stiffened, and then he nodded. "I didn't want nobody to know, Mr. Ricochet. They could get hurt..."

Ricochet sighed. The yellows of his eyes had gone red due to his crying, and he wiped them again. "E-Even so, I can't believe I was so ignorant back then!" Ricochet balled his hand into a fist."I-I could've…I should've-"

"It's alright, Mr. Ricochet. I'm gonna be fine. I'm jus' happy to have a friend that cares," Droop-a-Long said. "Are you gonna be alright?"

"I-I don' know, Droop. To be honest, I don't know how anybody can be fine after hearin' all that. But can ya promise me somethin'?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Droop-a-Long mimicked Ricochet's actions from earlier, if a little clumsier.

Ricochet smiled a little at this, but then his expression quickly turned serious. "Promise me that you'll never, _ever_ keep things like that from me again. Things like that are serious, Droop-a-Long. And if anybody tries somethin' like that again, or even suggests it, you tell me. I'll handle 'em myself."

"But Mr. Ricochet-"

" _No ifs or buts about it._ Got it?" Ricochet frowned to emphasize his point.

"Crystal clear, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. Then he pulled Ricochet into a hug. "T-Thanks, Mr. Ricochet. I knew I could count on ya."

Ricochet sighed, but smiled as he patted the coyote on the back. When Droop-a-Long let him go, he said, "When it comes to my friends, I never let 'em down, Droop-a-Long." He then got up from the floor. "Come on, Deputy. We still have to finish up the chores before it gets dark out."

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Alright, Sheriff. I'll take the porch, while you take the inside."

"Hey, I'm supposed ta be the one givin' out chores!" Ricochet protested, but there was a small smile on his face when he said that.

Droop-a-Long smiled back. "I guess I kinda forgot 'bout that, Sheriff."

* * *

 _Later that night..._

Ricochet looked up at the ceiling of his room, his hands folded across his stomach as he lay on his mattress. Droop-a-Long was downstairs watching a movie on television, and he could hear his laughter from upstairs. Droop-a-Long's spirits had lifted a little bit, but Ricochet guessed that he was still worried about Dave's threat.

Ricochet wasn't scared. He'd heard threats like that from many an outlaw or criminal, and most of them were never carried out. Dave and Chuck were probably in that same "bark worse than their bite" category. And just from looking at Droop-a-Long, their words were more deadly than any force they could come up with.

He looked at his raw knuckles, which still smelled faintly of blood. He still couldn't believe that he'd come to the point of almost killing them. Retaliation was something he hardly ever considered, but it was all he could think about when he heard Dave and Chuck dress down Droop-a-Long. Although the coyote did have his faults, he also had talents as well, some that even Ricochet hadn't known about. It was possible that Droop-a-Long had heard the same things from not just Dave and Chuck, but from everyone else in town.

Ricochet sighed. He remembered the first time he met Droop-a-Long, how rude he'd been towards him. The things he'd said to Droop-a-Long back then weren't nearly as bad as what Dave and Chuck had said, but they were still harsh. And yet, Droop-a-Long hadn't called him out on his behavior, or tried to prove him wrong. He had every opportunity to treat him just as bad, but he hadn't. He'd even saved his life and came to check on him, which had finally earned Ricochet's respect.

But Ricochet hadn't even considered how his words had affected his deputy. He'd apologized in his letter, and he thought that'd be the end of it, but with Dave and Chuck's words ringing through his mind, he couldn't help but cross-examine himself.

What if Droop-a-Long secretly resented him for what he said back then? Even worse, what if he hated him?

What if their friendship really was a farce like everyone thought?

What if...

Ricochet sat up abruptly from his spot on the bed, which caused his head to throb. He'd managed to get the glass and wood out of his fur, and Droop-a-Long had patched him up, but it would be a while before he could freely move around like he had earlier. He got down from the bed, opened the door, and went downstairs. What he was going to ask would probably change everything, but Ricochet had to know. If he didn't ask, the questions would haunt him forever.

He turned to the left, where Droop-a-Long was sitting in front of the television, laughing at the trio of wacky men who were currently beating each other in the face. Clearing his throat, Ricochet said, "Droop-a-Long, I've gotta talk to ya for a moment."

"Oh, uh, sure, Mr. Ricochet." Droop-a-Long turned off the television just as the credits started to roll. He turned to face the sheriff. "What's goin' on?"

"Uh..." Ricochet scratched the back of his neck. This was going to be harder than he thought. "Hey, Droop...I was thinkin' 'bout what happened earlier, ya know...with Dave 'n Chuck."

Droop-a-Long's smile faltered. "I thought ya said ya didn't wanna talk about them no more. Ya told me so when we were doin' the chores."

"I know what I said, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said tiredly. "But while I was upstairs, I couldn't help but start thinkin' of things."

"What kind of things?"

"Well...I remembered how we first met, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "And I remembered how rude I was towards ya, too."

"Oh, yeah. Ya were kinda mean back then, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

Ricochet winced. "Yeah...I was," he admitted.

"Why were ya thinkin' of that anyway, Sheriff?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"I saw how much Dave an' Chuck's words affected ya, Droop-a-Long...and how much they hurt you. And when I thought back to my time in Shadybrook, when you an' I worked together, I got to thinkin' that maybe I-I might've hurt you, too, with my words," Ricochet said. He could feel tears starting to burn in his eyes. Even now as he was admitting it, he couldn't help but feel as though he was a horrible person. "S-So I can't blame ya for bein' bitter towards me, like ya were towards Dave 'n Chuck, Droop-a-Long...heck, I couldn't blame ya if ya hated me."

Droop-a-Long stared at him in shock. "H-Hate you?" he repeated.

"Droop-a-Long, I know that you like to spare others' feelin's, but you can jus' tell me how ya really feel about me," Ricochet said. "I won't get angry at ya, I promise."

"Mr. Ricochet, I don't think ya need ta-"

"Droop-a-Long, jus' tell me," Ricochet interrupted. "I need ta know so I don't have ta feel this way anymore!"

"Feel what way, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked.

The words came out in a small whisper. _"Guilty."_

For a long moment, neither of them said anything. Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet, who, for the second time that day, looked close to tears. Droop-a-Long got up from the floor and walked over to the sheriff, who wiped his eyes.

"W-Well, what are ya waitin' for, Droop? Spill it," Ricochet muttered.

Droop-a-Long stood in front of the sheriff then, his expression sympathetic. "Mr. Ricochet...I don't hate ya at all," he said. "What ya said back then should've made me hate ya, and I admit, that _did_ sting a bit, but I'd heard a lot of that from so many folks. It's jus' when folks tell me I'm nothin' that makes me really upset."

Ricochet looked up at Droop-a-Long, his eyes wide with surprise.

"The whole time I've worked with ya, Mr. Ricochet, you've never told me that. Even when you get mad an' insult me, you've never told me that I can't do nothin'. I told ya 'bout my dreams ta be a sheriff, and you didn't laugh at me or tell me that I couldn't do it. You said I could do it, an' even encouraged me to go for it. That's why I jumped at the chance ta work with ya," Droop-a-Long said. "I forgave ya for what happened back then, Mr. Ricochet. I don't even think 'bout that much anymore. So ya don't have ta feel guilty. I don't hate ya a bit. In fact, I reckon it'd take a lot to make me hate ya."

"S-So...you really don't hate me at all..."

"Nope." Droop-a-Long shook his head. "I never have."

"And...we're still friends, aren't we?"

"We're best friends, Mr. Ricochet. There are times where I'm a lil' scared of ya, or when ya annoy me a bit...but iffin' anybody deserved the title of best friend, it'd be you."

Ricochet felt his eyes begin to burn again, and he gave his deputy a smile of relief and gratitude. "Aw, shucks, Droop-a-Long..."

"A-Are ya okay, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked, noticing Ricochet wiping his eyes again.

"I-I'm fine. Jus' a little dust that got in my eyes..."

"But I dusted an' swept the office clean...there shouldn't have been any dust," Droop-a-Long said.

Ricochet chuckled. "Don't worry, Droop-a-Long, I'm fine. H-Honest, I am," he said. He sighed. "I-I guess I shouldn't have been so worried...you're a true pal, Droop-a-Long, you know that?"

"Aw, thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I'm glad I could stop ya from worryin'." Smirking, he then patted Ricochet on the head. "An' you're a good pal, too."

"Hey, quit touchin' my head, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet shouted, pushing the coyote's arm away. "An' I jus' bandaged it, too!"

Droop-a-Long chuckled. "I'm jus' messin' with ya, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

Ricochet sighed, but then he started to laugh as well. It felt so good to laugh again, especially in light of what'd happened earlier. "I almost never say this after ya mess with my head, but I needed that. Thanks," he replied.

"No problem," Droop-a-Long said. He snapped his fingers. "Oh, I jus' remembered somethin'. They're supposed ta have a nighttime showin' of _Hoosegow Havoc,_ with limited commercials, too. Figured ya'd like ta watch it ta take your mind offa things."

Ricochet brightened. "That'd be great, Droop," he said. "You go ahead 'n get the movie set up while I get the snacks."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet."

As Ricochet walked into the kitchen, his mind went back to Droop-a-Long's words and he smiled. The coyote had a talent for making people feel better, whether he believed it or not. Even so, the incident with Dave and Chuck briefly flashed in his mind. He knew they wouldn't take this lightly, and the townspeople wouldn't just forget about it either. There might be some people who would go after Droop-a-Long simply because he'd defended him.

Ricochet frowned as he pulled out the snacks from the top shelf. He wasn't about to let anybody harass the coyote as they pleased, not as long as he was around. He'd meant what he'd said to Droop-a-Long earlier; he'd handle anybody who so much as looked at him funny. He would protect his friend from anyone who dared tried to harm him. Droop-a-Long could protest all he wanted, but nothing would change his mind.

"Hey, Mr. Ricochet! The movie's startin'!"

Ricochet shook out of his thoughts and turned in the direction of the main room. "I'll be right there, Droop-a-Long!"

Grabbing the food from the shelves, and a large bottle of cactus juice soda from the icebox, he made his way back inside. This situation with Dave and Chuck would have to wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he was going to enjoy himself.

* * *

 _Meanwhile, at the county jail..._

" _ARRRGGHHH!"_ There was a loud boom as Dave's fist collided with the wall for the tenth time that night. "This is so _unfair_!"

"Dave, _quit it_ ," Chuck groaned. "Some of us are tryin' ta sleep."

"This is all that stupid deputy's fault," Dave continued. He didn't even hear Chuck. "The sheriff's now his personal bodyguard, and he gets to walk scot-free!"

"I know. All because that deputy's his 'best friend'. He's probably fillin' the sheriff in on what we did." Chuck growled. "If word gets out about what we've been doin', we're toast. We'll either have to shut him up, or drive him out."

"That's jus' what I was thinkin', Chuck. It's time someone got rid of that simple-minded dog," Dave snarled. "But I also think it's time someone offed Ricochet, too."

"What are you thinkin' of doin', Dave?" Chuck asked.

"Oh, you'll see by tomorrow." Dave smirked as he watched at the moon hanging over Hoop 'n Holler. "Those two won't be around much longer, Chuck. Jus' wait an' see."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 _ **Okay, uh...I wasn't planning on things to get that dark. No, really, I swear. It started out as a fluffy little short about the origin of one of Droop's favorite drinks, the artichoke milkshake (mentioned in one of the episodes...I'll go back and check later). Then the conversations between Ricochet and Droop-a-Long in the saloon, and Chuck and Dave (hint: remember Stinky's pal from "Have Guitar, Will Travel"? That's Dave in this universe.) in the town square, expanded an idea I had for my Pokemon/H-B one-shot that I was drafting, then I thought about what would happen if Ricochet heard half of what Chuck and Dave were saying...and that resulted in this. This is probably the first two-part short I've ever written for this story, and I might do the same for the next short I might post. In fact, I may just go ahead and expand this story from 18 chapters, continuing until I decide to stop. It's just too fun writing about Ricochet and Droop-a-Long :D**_

 _ **But yeah, Droop's quite the Stepford Smiler here, of the Depressed variety. After all, if you're going through all the stuff that he went through, you'd be pretty depressed and afraid for your life as well. I touched on racism a few times in this universe, most notably "Breaker of Barriers" and "If Likin' You Is Wrong" (where Ricochet and Denise were the ones who held this belief towards Droop-a-Long until they got to know him), but probably not as deep as this. I based some of this off of the movie "Freedom Summer" (a really good Civil Rights movement documentary), as well as some real life facts about the Wild West, which had a lot of racial tension there as well. Add in some of my headcanoned flaws for Droopy (his low self-esteem and his naivete), and you've got a pretty dark past for the mostly easy-going Droop-a-Long, though he hides it very, VERY well; as one could imagine, Ricochet was very concerned to learn that he was doing this.**_

 _ **Ricochet's early interactions with Droop-a-Long are brought back up here, mostly because his thinking on the situation leads him to think of how he treated Droop-a-Long. He thinks that he's no better than Dave and Chuck in terms of behavior, and he feels guilty for having been so mean to Droop-a-Long (though not nearly as mean as Dave and Chuck were), hence why he wanted to know if Droop-a-Long resented him for what he said. Thankfully, Droop-a-Long doesn't. I couldn't resist having Droop-a-Long tease Ricochet to cheer him up. And after this, Ricochet decides that he will protect his best friend from anyone who tries to hurt him again, hence why this arc is called "Protector".**_

 _ **Ricochet may have defended Droop-a-Long from his tormentors, but the battle's far from over as Chuck and Dave come up with a plan to drive Droop-a-Long out of town. Will Ricochet succeed in stopping them, or will he lose his best friend and deputy? Stay tuned for part two, and let me know what you think!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	16. Short 16: Protector---Part 2

**A/N:** Sorry that it took so long, folks; college life called, it wanted my time back :)

Last time on _Blazin' Trails_ , Ricochet defends Droop-a-Long from two guys who have been abusing him. That should've been the end of it...but things heat up in this chapter...and that's all I'm going to say about it~!

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet or Droop-a-Long, folks.

* * *

 **Story 16: Protector  
**

 **Part 2**

 _The next morning...  
_

"You folks can't do this! We need Ricochet as the town sheriff!"

"Yeah, and he'll beat up people when he's supposed to be protectin' them!"

"I say we elect a new sheriff and deputy, pronto!"

The shouts of the townspeople outside the office roused Ricochet out of his sleep. Groaning, he made his way out of his room, down the stairs and went to the front door. Droop-a-Long was still asleep, his snores resounding throughout the office. Ricochet found no need to wake him for this, considering the day he'd had yesterday.

He opened the door to see a large crowd gathered around the office. Standing on the porch were five men, all of them holding shotguns and looking down at him menacingly.

"Is there somethin' I can do for you?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

The man in the blue and orange plaid shirt waved a hand to silence the townspeople. When they were quieted, he cleared his throat and pulled out a sheet of paper from his vest. "Sheriff Ricochet, I wish we were meeting under better circumstances, but we're here to arrest you," he said. "And in case you don't believe us, we have the court order to prove it."

Ricochet took a long look at the paper in front of him, and his eyes widened. His hands gripped the paper so tightly that he almost ripped it in half. He looked up at the men, who started backwards when they saw the anger in his eyes. Only the first man didn't move.

"Look, you shouldn't be too surprised. You were the one who tackled them through the window," he said. "And to think they appointed you to be the sheriff."

"You don't deserve to wear that badge!" an old woman shouted, and several more hurled similar insults.

"SHUT UP, ALL OF YA!" the man said. Once again, the townspeople quieted, although a few of them were still making rude remarks about Ricochet.

After a moment of glaring at the man, Ricochet folded up the paper and placed it his vest. "Thank you for bringing this to me, fellas. I'll be sure to bring my deputy up to speed on what's goin' on," he said slowly. The anger in his voice was unmistakable. "I reckon you've got a lot of duties, so I won't keep ya. You go on back to Town Hall 'n tell 'em I got this. I need to tell my deputy what's goin' on."

"We'll do that, Ricochet. As for now, you're goin' to jail!" the first man yelled.

"You can't jus' do that!"

"Yeah, we can," the first man said. They all raised their shotguns and aimed them at Ricochet's chest. "And we'll bring you there dead if we have to."

The second man gulped as he turned to the leader. "Um...a-are you sure that's a good idea? I-I mean, bringing him in like that would-"

"So what if it ruins our chances at gettin' paid? We're still bringin' him in!" the man said. "Now march, Ricochet!"

Ricochet's hand balled into a fist. A part of him wished he'd woken up Droop-a-Long; he really needed a calming influence right about now. "Alright, fine," he grumbled, putting his hands up. "Ya don't have to be pushy."

"Get goin', lawman!" the men said, and Ricochet complied, making his way through the crowd to do so. All the while, he stewed in his anger.

 _Someone's gotta get to the bottom of this...!_

* * *

Droop-a-Long lifted his head slowly, yawning and rubbing his eyes. The sun was rising high into the sky, bathing his room with bright light. How long had he been asleep? If he didn't get downstairs soon, Ricochet would come in and drag him out. Groaning, he sat up and started to climb out of bed and dress for the day. No doubt Ricochet was already on a case, probably without him again.

He still couldn't believe that Ricochet would jump in and defend him like he had yesterday. Although it was nice to see someone stand up for him, he knew that it would only get them into trouble in the end. Those guys were right; he really was nothing but trouble. Droop-a-Long was amazed that Ricochet had put up with him as his deputy for five whole years without firing him. Despite their opposite personalities and the frequent arguing they'd had, Ricochet still considered Droop-a-Long to be his best friend.

For the life of him, Droop-a-Long didn't understand why or how Ricochet would call him that. If anything, he should be mad at him for everything he'd done.

No sooner had he tied his belt around his waist than the door slammed open with incredible force. Droop-a-Long whirled around to see three men with guns walk in. Droop-a-Long raised his arms in surrender. "I-I'm unarmed! I'm unarmed!"

"We know that, Deputy," the first man said. "We're here to tell ya that the sheriff's been arrested."

Droop-a-Long felt ice go down his back. "W-What? Why?"

"He beat the tar outta two people because o' you! Or did you forget that?" the first man snapped.

The third man scoffed. "With his thick skull, I wouldn't be surprised."

"Now hold on a minute," Droop-a-Long said. "I know that what Mr. Ricochet did was wrong, but them two fellers he jailed were in the wrong first for sayin' that stuff."

"Even so, did that give Ricochet the right to tackle them both through the window and beat them senseless? I think not. You of all people should know that!"

Droop-a-Long swallowed. "W-Well, I did try to stop 'im..."

"And you were too late, as always," the third man said.

"That's enough, you!" the first man replied. He turned to Droop-a-Long. "Ricochet's in jail right now, and we've taken his badge away, too. We should get rid of you, too, but we need someone to keep an eye on things in town until we elect a new sheriff."

"Stay here until we get more info on the sheriff, alright?" the second man replied.

Droop-a-Long nodded uneasily. "I-I will..."

After they walked away, Droop-a-Long sat on his bed, wringing his hat. "I've gotta take Mr. Ricochet's place...?"

* * *

There had been only one occasion where Ricochet had been placed behind bars, and that was for crimes he didn't commit.

Now here he was in jail again, this time for another crime he did commit. The rabbit sat on the bench, arms folded and glaring at the wall in front of him. His knuckles ached from the beating he'd given Dave yesterday, and he unfolded his arms to look at his knuckles. The fur that covered them was gone, and they were tender and scraped raw. He hadn't realized how hard he'd punched Chuck and Dave until now. A part of him wished that he'd asked for bandages to cover them. The last thing he needed was to mess them up even more.

They'd charged him with assault and battery for what he'd done. Considering what had happened yesterday, it was a reasonable charge. Ricochet was glad that Droop-a-Long had come in and pulled him off of Dave and Chuck when he did; if he had killed either of them, he would've been stuck in jail for murder.

The townspeople were treating it as though he had murdered them. The warden had decided to keep him in for sixty days, and some of the townspeople thought that was a reasonable punishment. However, the townspeople who believed that he had beat them up for no reason wanted him hanged. They were thinking of holding a trial, but threats of mobs surrounding the court made the people at Town Hall reconsider that. For now, he was to sit in jail for his intended sentence.

Ricochet could only imagine what Droop-a-Long was thinking right about then. The coyote had never taken charge as sheriff before, and he probably wouldn't have been able to cope with the stress of doing the duties of sheriff and the people's scrutiny. What angered him most of all was that most of the people hadn't batted an eye after seeing him take on those two men. They'd been shocked and surprised, but they hadn't called him out as they had seen and heard everything as well. But today proved that there were people that had the same attitude that Chuck and Dave had, just like Droop-a-Long said.

People would question him and wonder why he'd snapped like that. Droop-a-Long's nature was the reason Ricochet had done so. Droop-a-Long was the opposite of most people in town: he was a sweet guy who always put others ahead of himself, and wouldn't hurt a fly. This nature was one that many people would try to use to their own advantage, just like Dave and Chuck had. Although the coyote would normally tell him what was wrong, yesterday proved that if he was really scared, he'd bottle everything up until he couldn't hold it anymore. Hearing the whole story had made him angry as well as upset; he'd been half-tempted to go to the jail and beat those two senseless again.

Now here he was in jail, and they were nowhere in sight. A part of him was glad for it; had they been there, he would've resorted to violence, which would spell problems for him.

"Psst...Mr. Ricochet! Mr. Ricochet!"

One of Ricochet's ears perked up, but then lowered. What would the townspeople want with him this time? To heckle him again? He sighed and rested his head in his palms, willing whoever it was to go away.

That thought was discouraged when something hit him in the back of the head. "OW!" His temper flaring, he got up and went over to the window, climbing up the bunk to do so. Whoever had done that was going to regret having done so. "What's the big idea, ya knucklehead?! Can't a rabbit have some time to think?!"

"Oh...I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I-I jus' wanted to give ya somethin'..."

Ricochet gasped. Only one person had a twangy drawl like that. Looking out the window, he saw his deputy standing there, looking somewhat disappointed. "Oh, shucks, Droop-a-Long, you could've told me it was you!" he said. He remembered his insult and winced. "Sorry about callin' you a knucklehead. I-I thought you was one of the folks from town!"

"That's alright, Mr. Ricochet. Probably shoulda told ya who I was first," Droop-a-Long said. He paused, then added, "O' course, if ya don't wanna see me right now..."

"No, Droop, you're fine. I'm 'bout ready to tear my fur outta my head from sittin' in here," Ricochet said. "What did ya need?"

"How long are ya stayin' in jail, Mr. Ricochet? I tried askin' the folks, but nobody wants ta tell me anythin'."

"Sixty days," Ricochet said. He was surprised at how easy it was to say that. Earlier, he would've shouted it at the top of his lungs in anger. "They've given me a charge of assault and battery for what happened with Dave an' Chuck."

"Oh, no...with that charge, you might never be sheriff again," Droop-a-Long said. "After all, the townsfolk won' elect a convicted criminal."

Ricochet sighed. "That's true, Deputy. But I've heard that there's a petition goin' around for the people to let me outta jail. They were gonna have a trial for me, but the higher ups were afraid that people would try to kill me," he answered. "So, I'm sittin' in this here jail cell 'til they can figure out what to do with me."

"Oh...shucks, this is all my fault," Droop-a-Long said. "I shoulda never dragged you into my mess..."

"Droopy, for the last time, it's _not your fault_. It's mine." He sighed again. "I'm lucky that I got tacked with assault an' battery for this. If I'd beat them up when I tried to arrest them, that'd be police brutality and I'd be as good as dead by now."

"Mr. Ricochet..."

"Yes, Droop-a-Long?"

"I was thinkin' of this while I was at the office, an' I wanted ta ask what you thought of it."

"What's that, Droop?"

"...would it be easier on everyone else iffin' I jus' left?" Droop-a-Long asked sadly.

"What?!" Ricochet exclaimed. He stared at the coyote in shock. "That's...that's crazy talk, Droop! Why would you even think of leavin'?"

"Mostly 'cause I'm nothin' but trouble, Mr. Ricochet. I've done nothin' but cause trouble for ya for five years," Droop-a-Long said. "I ain't fast, I ain't all that smart, and-"

"Droop-a-Long, stop beatin' yourself up like this!" Ricochet interrupted. "I don't want ya doin' this to yerself!"

Droop-a-Long stopped, looking up at Ricochet in surprise. "But..."

"Don't 'but' in, Deputy," Ricochet interrupted. "I get why you're thinkin' of leavin'. After all, those guys terrorized you, people are insultin' you, and a new sheriff might be elected...one who probably won't hesitate to throw you out. But you're not nothin' but trouble, Droop-a-Long. You've screwed up and you've gotten on my nerves many times, but you've never given me any trouble."

"'Til now," Droop-a-Long said.

"Droop-a-Long, listen! What happened between Dave an' Chuck wasn't your fault. You thought that they were nice people, only for them to turn out that they weren't. And they threatened and blackmailed ya into sayin' nothin' about it to me," Ricochet said. "You don't have ta blame yourself anymore, Droop-a-Long. It's not your fault."

"B-But you bein' in jail-"

"It's not your fault, either. It's mine. I should've stopped myself before I beat them up," he said. "But...but when I saw you cryin' 'cause of what they said, that did it for me. I will not sit back and let people make others cry, especially if they didn't do nothin' to them in the first place." He sighed. "I know that I was wrong in losin' my temper...but I wasn't gonna sit back and let you get insulted like that. Friends defend each other, Droop-a-Long. Never forget that."

Droop-a-Long stood there for a long time, not moving. Then he started to shudder and sniffle, and wiped his eyes from under his hat. "Aw, M-Mr. Ricochet...t-that's the nicest thing you've ever said ta me..."

"Hey, don't get teary eyed on me, Droop," Ricochet said. "I was jus' tellin' you what I stand up for."

"I-I know...but after what happened, i-it's nice to hear that someone will stand up for me." Droop-a-Long smiled. "T-Thank ya, Mr. Ricochet. I appreciate it a lot. A-And I reckon I won' leave town now."

Ricochet smiled back. "You're welcome, Droop-a-Long," he said. "I'm glad I could cheer ya up a little bit. I've got your back for always, ya know that?"

"I do now, Mr. Ricochet. I-I'm-a tryin' to find a way to get you outta jail, but-"

"You don't have to do that, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "You jus' worry about your job as sheriff, and I'll worry about the jail situation."

"You sure, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Positive, Droop. Now, you'd best mosey on back to the office, okay? The warden's not back yet, but he will be soon, and he doesn't like it when inmates are chatterin'," Ricochet answered.

Droop-a-Long didn't look convinced, but all he said was, "Alright, Mr. Ricochet. You take care o' yourself, okay?"

"You too, Droop." He started to get down, but then another question came into his mind. He came back up to the window, where he saw Droop-a-Long starting to walk away. "Hey, Droop-a-Long!"

Droop-a-Long stopped and turned around. "What is it, Mr. Ricochet?"

"What was it that you threw at the back of my head?" he asked.

"Oh...it's somethin' I picked up from the bakery. I heard the food in jail's terrible, so I wanted you to have somethin' to eat in there."

Ricochet sighed, but smiled. "Thanks, Droop."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Ricochet. An' uh...that's kinda not a figure o' speech, either."

Ricochet chuckled, and then he waved to Droop-a-Long before climbing down from the bunk. Talking to Droop-a-Long had calmed most of his anger, but he was still concerned. As thoughtful as it was that Droop-a-Long wanted to get him out of jail, he didn't want the coyote to worry about the situation he'd gotten into...or at least, worry about it even more. Droop-a-Long had a lot on his plate, and taking the role of town sheriff was one of them. Still, it was good to talk to his best friend again, even if it was for a little bit.

He saw the silver tin-foiled package on the floor, and picked it up. After brushing off the dirt from it, he unwrapped it to see what it was. A lemony scent filled his nostrils, and he found himself with a large slice of lemon cake. Attached to it was a small note, which was stained with some oil from the cake.

 _Here's something to make you feel a little better, Mr. Ricochet._

 _-Droop-a-Long_

Ricochet smiled as he looked at the note. "That coyote's too sweet for his own good sometimes."

* * *

Town Hall was in an uproar when Droop-a-Long got inside. Most of the people in the court appeared to be the average citizens, but there were a good majority who were from the wealthier parts of town. Nobody noticed his coming in, as most of them were yelling at the mayor, J.P. Nuggets.

"Order! We shall have order!" one of the guards yelled, blocking the people from coming closer. It was no use; the crowd was restless, and some people were hurling insults.

"I'd like to see Cottontail get outta this one!"

"He's not so tough without his badge, is he?"

"I told ya we should hang him!"

Droop-a-Long was aghast. He knew that things were bad, but he hadn't expected things to be like this.

J.P. Nuggets looked irritated. When someone shouted, "I hope he gets beat up jus' as bad!", that did it. With a loud yell of, "ENOUGH!" he managed to get the crowd to stop shouting. His face was beet red, and he glared at the assembled people.

"Unless any of you want to be thrown out of here, you must control yourselves!" he thundered, glaring at the people. "And no insults will be made during this meeting. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Mayor," the crowd replied.

"Good. Now, as I was saying," J.P. said, "we of the town of Hoop 'n Holler are rather disappointed in Ricochet Rabbit, but we're willing to give him a second chance. I don't know the whole story yet, but I bet there's more to it than just him beating people senseless."

"There was, sir! Those two fellers were lookin' for a fight!" a man yelled.

"They were two unarmed men, Jeb! They couldn't defend themselves!"

"Unarmed?!" A third man all but shouted the word. "They were not unarmed, lady! Chuck had a gun and he was gonna shoot the sheriff!"

"In self-defense," the woman said, "because Sheriff Ricochet attacked him simply because he talked to the deputy."

"He did not jus' talk to him! He insulted him and called him a monster! Droop-a-Long's nothin' like that!" another man shouted.

"How do you know that?" the woman accused.

"Ladies and gentlemen, _please_!" J.P. Nuggets said. "Calm down!"

The woman sighed and folded her arms. "Forgive me, Mr. Mayor," she said.

"That's better. Now I understand that Ricochet and his deputy Droop-a-Long are good friends, correct?"

"I've heard that Droop-a-Long's his best friend. They've been workin' together for five years now," the first man, Jeb, said.

"I know you say Droop-a-Long is not the monster that he appears to be," the woman continued, "but coyotes as a whole tend to have very good manipulation skills."

"M-Manipulation skills?" Jeb repeated. "What are you tryin' to say?"

"I'm saying that we all could've been. He could've fooled us into thinking he's a harmless, kind-hearted coyote when he's nothing like that at all," she said. "If anything, I think he tricked the sheriff into believing that to the point where that if anybody was giving him 'problems', you'd defend him."

A fifth man slammed his fist on the table. "This is outrageous!" he screamed, and several more people started shouting.

"Droop-a-Long didn't manipulate him into doin' nothin', lady!" Jeb said.

"Who knows? She could have a point!" an old man shouted back.

"He fought them 'cause they said horrible things about 'im and terrorized him!" Jeb argued.

"Did he even tell the sheriff that Dave and Chuck were 'terrorizing' him? Until I have proof, I won't believe that codswallop!" the old man shouted.

Droop-a-Long had had enough. Clearing his throat, he shouted, "You want proof? You've got all the proof right here!"

Everyone gasped as they turned to face whoever had come in. Droop-a-Long was standing in the doorway, his expression angry. J.P. Nuggets stared in shock as the coyote made his way over to him.

"What is the meaning of this?" someone thundered.

"Droop-a-Long, what are you doing?!" J.P. Nuggets asked.

"He's supposed to be at the office!" one of the people said.

Droop-a-Long ignored the people's murmurs as he faced J.P. Nuggets. He was very nervous, but he knew that he had to explain what happened. If he was going to help his friend, then now was the time. "Mr. Nuggets, I know this is right uncouth of me ta burst in on the meetin' like this, but what Mr. Jeb's sayin' is the truth," he said. "Those two fellers, Dave 'n Chuck, did harass me when I first came to town, and they've been buggin' me ever since. I jus' didn't tell nobody 'cause they made me keep silent.

"What Mr. Ricochet did wasn't right-he almost killed them two fellers-but he did it by 'imself, not because of what I told 'im. I only told him everythin' that happened to me after he beat 'em up. And I know Mr. Ricochet to know that he won' stand around and let people insult his friends, or threaten them neither," Droop-a-Long said. "And...and I won't stand around and listen to people mixin' up things about me, either." He frowned. "Everybody knows that Dave 'n Chuck started it first; that's why there are people who're defendin' Mr. Ricochet. He clobbered 'em, but he didn't kill 'em 'cause I stopped him from doin' it."

For the first time since the meeting had started, there was dead silence in Town Hall. Then J.P. Nuggets said, "Deputy Droop-a-Long, are you certain that you're telling me the truth?"

"I was there, sir. The whole thing started 'cause I was there," Droop-a-Long said. "I swear on my sworn duty as deputy."

"Hmm..." J.P. Nuggets stroked his mustache thoughtfully. "I'll take this into consideration. But I have a feelin' that you're not here to jus' defend Ricochet, am I right?"

"Right, Mr. Nuggets. I want ya to reduce Mr. Ricochet's sentence, Your Honor," Droop-a-Long said. "If you arrest him an' take away his badge, Hoop 'n Holler will go back to bein' a town full of crime. He's the best sheriff this town's got, and I don't know who can take his place."

"There's no arguin' about that," J.P. Nuggets replied. "He's known as the fastest sheriff in all the West for a reason."

Most of the crowd gave their murmurs in agreement.

"Please, sir. If ya gotta punish Ricochet, punish 'im fer assault and battery...er, somethin' like that," Droop-a-Long replied. "But don't kick him outta the sheriff's office."

The crowd murmured again. After a moment of looking at Droop-a-Long, J.P. Nuggets said, "Alright, I'll call a twenty-minute recess, and then we'll wrap this up," he said. "I'll take your suggestion into consideration when I talk with the other members of Town Hall, Deputy."

"Thank you, Mr. Nuggets," he said. "Once again, I'm-a might sorry I burst in on ya..."

"No need to apologize. But next time, do make an appointment with my secretary," Nuggets replied. He motioned for his guards to come with him as he left. Immediately, the floor was buzzing with conversations.

Droop-a-Long started to leave, but that was when someone grabbed him by the arm. Droop-a-Long recognized this man as the one who had told him Ricochet had been arrested. "Deputy Droop-a-Long, I gave ya an order to stay at the office!" he said.

"I know."

"Then why did you come down here?!"

"Like I said, I won't let people say bad things 'bout me, or about Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered. "And I had the feelin' that somethin' was wrong here, so I came down. When I came in, I heard that Mr. Jeb tellin' the judge that I didn't manipulate Mr. Ricochet into doin' stuff, an' that's the truth. Folks were gettin' real riled up, so I had to say somethin'." He smiled a little. "I told ya they'd probably listen to me. He even said he'd consider my suggestion."

Jeb sighed. "Even so, ya didn't have to defend me like that. I can defend myself jus' fine. 'sides, I'm in here defendin' you and Mr. Ricochet!"

"I appreciate it, Mr. Jeb, but Mr. Ricochet told me somethin': friends defend each other. He defended me from people who were abusin' me, and now I'm gonna defend him from folks who want him hanged."

"But men can't get abused!" The woman who'd said that he was a manipulative monster looked up at him then. "How can we be sure that you're not lyin' to everybody, especially the sheriff?"

Looking down at the small, red-haired woman, Droop-a-Long said, "Ma'am, I don't mean to be uncouth, but it's attitudes like yours that keep people from comin' upfront and tellin' folks that they've been hurt by others. It can happen to anybody, and they don't even have to be a female-type. Men can get abused, too. You jus' probably don't hear nothin' 'bout it, though."

With that, Droop-a-Long turned and left. He was glad that he'd kept his hat on today, as it meant that nobody would have to see his tears. The memories of Dave and Chuck beating him up, as well as their horrible words to him, were filling his mind. He knew he'd told Ricochet only half the story, but the last thing he needed was for Ricochet to become vengeful. Ricochet had almost killed Dave and Chuck when he beat them up; he didn't want the rabbit to actually finish them off.

He only hoped J.P. Nuggets' words weren't an empty promise.

* * *

 _At the county jail...  
_

"So, is Ricochet in jail?" Dave asked, looking up at his contact. "And are they gonna choose another sheriff?"

"Yes, sir," the contact said. He had light brown hair and wore a light blue shirt and dark blue, dusty overalls. "He's been placed in for sixty days."

"Sixty days? After what he did to us, he should get sixty years!" Dave shouted.

"Oh, some folks think he should be hanged," the man said. "There are some people tryin' to come after him with nooses and stuff. It's got so bad that there have been some guards placed outside the jail to keep 'em from gettin' in."

"Let them hang 'im is what I'd say," Chuck droned from the other side.

"Quiet!" Dave snapped. "So, what happened to the deputy? Is he gone?"

"Uh...not quite..."

"What do you mean, 'not quite'?" Chuck said. "You guys were supposed to shoot him when you went into the office this morning!"

"I-It was Paul's idea! He decided to let him take over as sheriff until they elected a new one!"

"You _idiot_!" Dave roared. "You were supposed to kill him, not let him get that kind of power!"

"B-But he was unarmed..."

"So what?! We put a target on his back for a reason, you oaf! If he's kept alive, he's gonna keep talkin' about what we did to 'im. And then they'll get Ricochet out, and extend our sentence...and that'll ruin our plans!" Chuck said.

"W-What do you want us to do?" the man replied.

"Finish the job," Dave hissed. "I don't care what you have to do. Just make sure he's dead by the end of the day. And in the morning, Sheriff Ricochet's gonna wish he never messed with us!"

"I-I think it might be the other way around..."

Dave turned on him. "What was that?"

"U-Uh, nothin'..."

"Don't just stand there, then! Get out there! And there can be no mistakes this time, Zeb."

"R-Right!" Zeb turned and ran out of the jailhouse. Dave scoffed.

"What an idiot...I bet he didn't have the heart to do it," he said.

"He will when he learns how much money we'll cut from 'im," Chuck said. "If there's one thing that'll get a man, it's gettin' in the way of his money."

Dave chuckled. "Darn straight."

* * *

 _Later that evening...  
_

Droop-a-Long sipped quietly from his cup of coffee, finding the quiet in the office a bit unsettling. It was his first night without Ricochet in the office, something that he would never get used to. Sixty days with nobody to talk to and nothing to do...he sighed. It was going to be a long, boring two months.

He wondered what Ricochet was doing right now. He was probably bored out of his mind, too, and he probably didn't have anybody to talk to, either. After all, if there was anybody at the jail, they'd all be trying to strangle the rabbit for putting them in there. And of course, TV wasn't offered at the jail, either, so he had nothing to take his mind off his situation.

Droop-a-Long only hoped that Ricochet's situation would get better. He knew that Ricochet would explode when he heard of what he'd done, but if it was for his own good, he didn't really care. He'd take a week's worth of lectures from the sheriff if it meant he was out of jail and back at work. Ricochet's words had lit a fire under him, one that inspired him to do what he could to help his best friend.

He finished the rest of his coffee and made his way over to the desk. Other than having to settle a dispute between two men earlier in the day, no major cases had to be settled today. It looked like a slow night, but one could never be sure. He rummaged through the desk to search for his yo-yo, which had been a gift from one of his friends back in Shadybrook. He whistled as he played with the yo-yo, doing a walk-the-dog on the desk.

His quiet evening was interrupted when bullets ripped through the walls. He jumped to the ground as bullets slammed into the wall behind the desk. Some of them ricocheted off the desk and hit the floor. Droop-a-Long covered his head with his hands as the barrage continued.

Over the sounds of gunfire came the sound of the door being kicked down. "Quit firin'! Are ya tryin' ta kill me?!" someone shouted. When the gunfire stopped, the person shouted, "Come out, Deputy, or we'll drag you out!"

Droop-a-Long pulled himself out from under the desk and peered out to see what was going on. Standing in the room was the man who'd told him that Ricochet'd been arrested. The barrel of his gun was smoking. Standing behind him were men with rifles. Bullet casings scattered the porch.

"Get up, Deputy," the man growled, pointing his pistol at Droop-a-Long.

Droop-a-Long did, and raised his hands in surrender. "I'm unarmed, an' I won't hurt ya, okay? Can you guys tell me what's goin' on?" he said calmly.

"You're gonna die, that's what's going on," the man said.

For the second time that day, ice trickled down Droop-a-Long's back. "W-What? I didn't do anythin'!"

"You're a pain in our bosses' boots. We were actually supposed to kill you way earlier when we showed up to arrest Ricochet, but we figured that would get your friend riled up," he said. "But now our boss is cuttin' our paychecks, and the only we get our pay is if we finish the job."

"F-Fellers, you don't have to do this..." Droop-a-Long started, coming from around the desk. "Look, I'll let ya walk away, but-"

"He's got a gun, Zeb!" one of the men said. "He was lyin' about bein' unarmed!"

Droop-a-Long looked down at the silver gun that was in his holster and cursed himself inwardly. He'd completely forgotten that it was there. "Oh, great..."

"You're goin' down, Deputy!" Zeb shouted and opened fire.

Droop-a-Long hit the ground, grasping his knee and shouting in pain. One of the men behind Zeb facepalmed. "You were supposed to shoot 'im in the chest, you idiot!" he shouted.

Zeb avoided the man's gaze. "Just...just finish him off however you want, Paul," he said.

"Fine. But don't think we won't tell Dave that you didn't the heart ta do it yourself," Paul snapped. He motioned to the other men and walked inside, his face set into an angry scowl. Some of the men had clubs, and they surrounded the wounded Droop-a-Long in a circle. With a nod, they all started to beat on Droop-a-Long, aiming at his face and other parts of his body. Screams filled the air as they continued to beat on the wounded coyote. Blood soon splattered the ground, and Droop-a-Long's screams only mounted in agony.

Zeb clenched his hand into a fist, and he turned away from the gruesome scene. Paul was right: he didn't have the heart to do something like this. He had only wanted to wound Droop-a-Long, to scare him into leaving, not kill him. But he wasn't the one calling the shots, and he knew he was no better than Paul and the others. He did this to get paid so he could feed his family. And a shortage of money had made him a desperate man.

He wasn't even aware that the beating had stopped until Paul tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around and saw that Paul's face and hands were splattered with blood. He sighed. "Is he dead?" he asked.

"He's still breathin', but we can finish him off if ya want," Paul replied.

Zeb heard the ragged breathing coming from behind Paul. He prayed that Paul didn't turn around to let him see Droop-a-Long. He was already feeling sick, and seeing what they'd done to the coyote would only make him throw up on the spot. Swallowing, he said, "Come on, we've gotta take him with us. If we leave 'im there, they're gonna be out for blood."

"What're we gonna do with 'im?" Paul asked. "Dave an' Chuck are gonna wanna know."

Zeb thought for a moment. It was then that he heard the loud, lone whistle of a train. "Stuff him in a bag and get him to the platform. I've got an idea."

* * *

 _A couple of hours later, at the county jail...  
_

The doors to the jailhouse swung open, awakening the warden. He turned to find five bloodstained men standing there, armed to the teeth. "What the-"

That was all he got out before he was knocked out by the butt of Zeb's shotgun. The loud thud that resounded awoke Dave, who was closest to the door.

"What's goin' on?" he muttered. When he saw Zeb standing there, he said, "Well?"

"We did what you asked," Zeb said. There was no fear in his eyes. "Droop-a-Long Coyote is our of your hair for good, an' the sheriff's office is good for the takin'."

Dave chuckled. "I knew you wouldn't make a mistake, Zeb," he said.

"So, when are we gettin' paid?" Paul asked.

"Soon," Dave said. "You'll receive your reward once we get out of jail. I just want to see the town of Hoop 'n Holler thrown into chaos come mornin'."

"What about Ricochet?"

Dave scoffed. "Ricochet can't do nothin' in his present situation. He's already lost his position as sheriff, so there's no need to worry about a lawman comin' after any of us," he said. "Besides, nothin' he does can change the fact that his deputy's finished, and so's his career. Ricochet's not gonna do nothin' to us. You'll see."

Zeb only hoped that he was right.

* * *

 _The next morning...  
_

J.P. Nuggets made his way towards the sheriff's office, a sheet of paper in his hand. He yawned loudly, catching a stare or two from those who were walking by. He'd stayed up half the night battling and debating with the staff about this matter, and finally they'd come to a solution in the wee hours of the morning. He wanted to inform Droop-a-Long before he headed home to sleep in.

In all reality, the decision shouldn't have been so hard to make, but he hadn't known how many people would battle him for his decision. He trusted Ricochet Rabbit in the past, and his deputy didn't seem to be the type to lie about this sort of thing. And since he'd compared Droop-a-Long's side with the events that had happened yesterday, that only strengthened his conviction. He knew that the coyote would be overjoyed to hear this news.

When he made it to the sheriff's office however, he encountered a horrible sight. The building was filled with holes, and hundreds of bullet casings were scattered on the ground. The door had been knocked down, and blood covered the floor near the desk. There was no sign of Droop-a-Long, but his hat and his neckerchief, the latter of which was soaked in blood, was on the ground.

J.P. Nuggets stood there for a long moment, his eyes fixed on the horrible sight in front of him. Then he turned around and took off full speed for the town jail, running as fast as his legs could carry him.

* * *

 _"LET HIM OUTTA THERE! SOMEONE, GET RICOCHET RABBIT OUTTA THERE AT ONCE!"_

Ricochet shot out of bed so fast, he hit his head against the top bunk. Biting back a curse, he turned towards the source of the noise. Outside, someone was pounding on the door like a maniac, to the point where it was shaking the walls of the jail. "What in the blue blazes is goin' on?!"

The warden opened the door to the jail cells, and J.P. Nuggets rushed in, huffing and puffing. Ricochet stared in shock. The mayor looked like he'd run a marathon-and for as long as Ricochet had known J.P. Nuggets, he'd never known the mayor to run anywhere, ever.

"J.P. Nuggets? What're you doin' here?" Ricochet asked. "And why're you bellerin' like a banshee out thar?"

After taking a moment to regain his breath and his composure, J.P. Nuggets stood up and looked Ricochet in the eye. It was then that Ricochet noticed how urgent he looked. "M-Mayor?"

"Ricochet...I've got good news, and I've got grave news," he said.

Ricochet gulped, a knot forming at the base of his stomach. "What news?" he asked.

"The good news is...you're gonna be allowed to take up your position as sheriff again," he said. "We discussed it at Town Hall, and we decided to drop all charges against you."

Ricochet gaped at the man. "Are...are ya serious?" he asked.

"Yes, I am, and I've got the papers to prove it," J.P. replied, holding up the paper.

Ricochet leaped out of bed in joy, only to hit his head against the bunk again. "YEOWCH!" He rubbed his head, feeling the lump that was starting to form. "Maybe I shoulda gotten outta bed first..."

"Now, Ricochet, I wouldn't get too excited 'cause...well, it's connected to the bad news."

Ricochet felt the smile tugging on his face slip instantly. "W-What's the bad news?"

J.P. Nuggets swallowed. "Ricochet...your deputy came to Town Hall yesterday and told me upfront about what had happened. After comparin' his story with yours and fightin' with half of my staff, I was able to grant you your release. I-I went to the office this mornin' to tell him the news, but...someone got into the office before me an' made a horrible mess of things. A-And I think Deputy Droop-a-Long was one of them."

Horror the likes of which Ricochet had never felt before gripped him then. He stared back at J.P. Nuggets, his eyes wider than dinner plates, his irises smaller than tacks. J.P. took a step forward in concern. "R-Ricochet?"

Ricochet sank to his knees, and the mayor ran to the jail cell, tugging on the bars. "Ricochet, are you alright?! _Ricochet_!"

Even though the man was yelling directly into his ears, Ricochet didn't pay him any mind. His mind was running on what J.P. Nuggets had just said. This couldn't be right. It just couldn't be. Droop-a-Long, slow-moving, naive, but incredibly good-natured Droop-a-Long, was dead, murdered by an unknown criminal. A part of Ricochet wanted to believe that this was a sick joke, that Droop-a-Long was playing a prank on him. But he knew that wasn't so. Even though Droop-a-Long had a mischievous streak, he would never play a prank that mean-spirited. In fact, if he were alive, he would've come down to tell Ricochet himself that he'd gotten him out of jail.

Droop-a-Long had freed Ricochet from spending time jail or worse, only to pay dearly for it. Droop-a-Long was gone for doing the right thing, for being his usual selfless, thoughtful, incredibly _stupid_ self...

"I-I didn't see a body there at all, so I think someone must've taken 'im away," Nuggets was saying. "But the blood...Ricochet, it was aw-"

"Nuggets." The mayor's name was said in a soft, clinical whisper.

J.P's mouth snapped shut. He looked down at Ricochet, who was pulling himself to his feet. His head was still lowered at the ground, shadowed by his hat. "R-Ricochet?"

"I want ya to show that warden the paper so I can get outta here. I'm headin' back to the office," Ricochet said in that same low tone.

J.P. Nuggets looked at him as though he were insane. "Ricochet, the office is practically a crime scene!"

"And as sheriff, I'm gonna do my duty an' investigate," Ricochet countered. He looked up at J.P. Nuggets then, and the hardened look in his eyes made the mayor step back. "Now, this is the last time I'm gonna say it, J.P.: show that feller the paper and _get me outta here._ "

J.P. stared at him for a few moments more, and then quickly went out the door. A few seconds later, he was talking with the warden, their voices intermingling.

Ricochet gripped the bars tightly, his knuckles screaming with pain. His body shuddered, and he gripped them even tighter to keep himself from crying. After a long, arduous minute, he forced himself to regain control, and he let out a long breath. He would not cry. He would _not_ cry, not here and now of all times. J.P. was already worried; the last thing he needed was to have a breakdown in jail. He had to be strong. He had to tough it out as long as he could. He had to do his job and investigate...even if it meant he'd take this as a personal case. Even if it meant having to do it without his deputy at his side.

 _I'm gonna head back to the office and see this for myself. And if what J.P. Nuggets says is true, then I'm gonna find the person who did this an' make them pay dearly._

* * *

 _Later that morning..._

There was a mob surrounding the office when Ricochet arrived. Most people were staring inside the office in horror, their eyes wide and mouths covered with their hands. Already in a sour mood, Ricochet shouted, "Alright, folks, this is a crime scene! I need all of ya to clear out!"

When they all saw him, people stood back about ten feet upon seeing the hard look in his eyes. Even the people brave enough to step on the porch jumped off as soon as they saw the bright gold star pinned onto his vest. The sheriff was back, and by the look on his face, he meant business.

Heading up the steps, Ricochet noticed that the porch was littered with bullet casings, and that there were holes all over the front. He walked inside, careful to avoid the front door, which was chipped in places. When he looked up from the door, the first thing he saw were the holes in the walls. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands of them. There was one bullet casing on the floor in front of him, and he picked it up. It had come from a pistol, he knew, while the other bullets around him were from rifles, which had been used to put the holes in the walls.

"Whoever did this had help," he mused.

The second thing he saw was the blood that was on the floor in front of the desk. There was a lot of blood like J.P. Nuggets had said, and he didn't imagine Droop-a-Long making short work of the people who attacked him. There weren't any bullet casings here, but two items in particular stood out to Ricochet: a large, green hat, and a blood-soaked neckerchief. He knew then where the blood had come from. Forcing himself to walk over to the spot, he picked up the hat first, and then the neckerchief. The latter was soaked with blood, which ran through to his fur.

Someone had shot Droop-a-Long and then beat him to death. He'd been cruelly slaughtered, and then the criminals had gotten rid of his body, hoping that he would never be found.

For the second time that day, he sank to his knees, Droop-a-Long's clothes in his arms. These were the only things that remained of his deputy, his best friend. He hadn't even heard any gunshots or screaming as the townspeople had; he'd fallen into a fitful sleep after hours of being bored. He hadn't known that yesterday would be the last time he'd ever see his best friend, and Droop-a-Long hadn't known either.

He held the hat close, the sobs he'd held back at the jail starting to rack his frame. J.P. Nuggets had been right; coming back to the office had been a bad idea. He didn't care if people were looking in, or saying anything about him. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone to wallow in his grief. His sobs echoed throughout the office and only grew louder with each passing moment as memories of his time with Droop-a-Long filled his mind.

Outside of the office, the gathered citizens of Hoop 'n Holler watched the sheriff cry. Many of them had their hats off in sorrowful respect, while others were trying not to cry themselves. They had insulted Droop-a-Long as well, calling him the dumb deputy and what not, but even they never would have wished something this horrible on him. And now, looking down at the sobbing Ricochet, it was clear that the rabbit's words were true. Their relationship hadn't been a manipulative one where one was controlling what the other did. They really had been best friends-an odd pair, but an unbreakable one at that.

After a good five minutes of watching Ricochet cry, one of the men said, "Come on, guys, let's go. Leave the sheriff be."

Sorrowful, the townspeople walked away, some of them starting to cry themselves. Only one person stood on the porch, his bright green eyes teary and set into a determined glare. With his hand balled into a fist, Jeb turned and walked away.

"Someone's gotta do somethin' about this...!"

* * *

 _Late afternoon, at the county jail...  
_

"This is rich!" Dave cackled. "All of Hoop 'n Holler's gone up in arms because the dumb deputy's gone."

"Good riddance, I say," Chuck replied. "Ricochet's probably reelin' right now."

"Or he's in an early grave, too. You know how sensitive rabbits can be."

"Ricochet's no sensitive rabbit. Be glad that he's still in jail, 'cause he would've been after us by now," Chuck replied.

"That's true. But still, the deputy's gone, and Ricochet's in jail. So that means soon we're gonna get outta here and have the positions we deserved way more than that dumb coyote."

* * *

"Ricochet...?" J.P. Nuggets said softly as he made his way into the office. Things had been tidied up since he last saw it, though there were still bullet holes in the wall. The bullet casings from the porch had been gathered into a large box, which sat on the desk.

And sitting at the desk was Ricochet, who instead of leaning back in his chair like normal sat hunched over at the edge of his chair. Droop-a-Long's hat, which was still marked with blood, was gripped in his hands. His eyes were red from crying, and a small sniffle escaped his nose.

J.P. sighed. It hurt him to see the sheriff like this. "Ricochet..."

Ricochet jumped up from his chair with a start, only to relax when he saw J.P. "Oh...J.P. Nuggets. Shucks, I-I'm sorry. I-I didn't hear ya come in..."

"No need to fret, Ricochet. I didn't want ta startle ya." Taking off his hat, he looked at the rabbit with a forlorn expression on his face. "How're ya doin', Ricochet?"

"How do ya think?" Ricochet replied bitterly. "I've come back from gettin' put in jail, only to find that my deputy's been...murdered."

"You don't know that for sure-"

"Face it, J.P.! You don't have blood like that all over the floor an' say someone's still alive! Droop-a-Long is _dead_!" Ricochet snapped, standing up in his chair. His eyes widened as the gravity of that sentence sank in. Feeling weak in the knees for the third time that day, he sat back in his chair. His grip on Droop-a-Long's hat tightened and he shuddered. "D-Droop-a-Long's dead, and t-there's nothin' I can do about it. I'd like to think he's alive, but t-then I'd be g-gettin' my hopes up..."

"Ricochet, the best thing you can do for Droop-a-Long is to find the person who did this to him," J.P. Nuggets said. "If that feller walks free, there's no tellin' what he'll do to other folks."

"I know that. B-But how am I supposed to do that w-with no leads, no tips, no hints as to who killed 'im?" Ricochet demanded. "I-I'll be stuck searchin' for that feller forever...and by then, he'll be long gone. So if I was you, I'd forget about it."

J.P. Nuggets stared at Ricochet in shock. This was not the Ricochet he knew. The Ricochet he knew would never give up on something like this, especially if it involved someone close to him. "Ricochet-"

"J.P., if you don't mind, I'd like to be left alone right now," Ricochet interrupted. He turned away from the mayor and buried his face in his deputy's hat. "P-P-Please, jus' _go_."

J.P. opened his mouth to say more, but something told him that Ricochet wouldn't listen to him. Sighing, he placed his hat back on, and then left the office, doing his best to block out the rabbit's soft sobbing.

 _All I did was try to make this whole situation go away...and now it's gotten a whole lot worse_ , he mused.

* * *

 _Havenport Train Station_

 _150 miles from Hoop 'n Holler_

The train platform was a blur of motion, and that was just the sort of distraction that McCloud needed. In his disguise as a workman, he could unload the supplies he needed off the train without much suspicion. Taking his position near the end of the platform he watched as the train pulled up. There were many freight cars attached to this train, and he rubbed his hands greedily. To any normal worker, he looked eager to start working.

Oh, he was eager alright...for all the wrong reasons.

When the train came to a complete stop, the men started to open the doors. By pure luck, he got the car on the very end. Most of the valuables were stored at the very back, such as gold and jewels. He pulled open both doors, and whistled when he saw the payload. There were many bags of food, and one in particular looked like it contained a good amount of meat. He knew he had to get that one off first, or else it could become spoiled. McCloud climbed the steps to get to the car and picked up the sack, which was stained with blood in some spots.

He was starting to get down when the unthinkable happened: the sack started thrashing about in his arms, as though whatever was inside was trying to break out. He tried to get a hold on it, but he lost his grip and the sack tumbled onto the platform, writhing about on the ground. People jumped back and screamed, and McCloud reached for his gun, ready to shoot it until it stopped moving.

"Wait a minute, I think someone's in thar!" a man said. He rushed over and grabbed hold of the sack, untying the rope with his thick, strong fingers. The top came off, and a bloody hand appeared a moment later. More screams filled the air, and the man who'd untied the sack stared in shock as a bloody, beaten animal crawled out of the bag. "What in the name of..."

The animal coughed, and drew in a shaky breath before saying, "T-thanks, mister...I thought I was a goner..."

"What's your name, son?" he asked.

"D-Droop-a-Long. Droop-a-Long C-Coyote, sir," the coyote drawled out. "I'm a deputy...got beat up...everythin's spinnin'..."

"Someone, get over here and get this coyote some help!" someone shouted.

Most of the crowd stayed back. McCloud in particular was trying to sneak off from the scene. Unfortunately for him, the man spotted him and shouted, "You! You work here, right? How can ya sneak away an' leave when someone's in need?"

McCloud turned around slowly, biting back the urge to swear. "I, uh..."

"I want you to take him to the nearest buildin' in town and get help, real quick like, you hear?"

McCloud tensed. The nearest building in town happened to be his base. "But sir-"

"You don't have anythin' to hide, do ya?" the man asked.

Again, he had to hold his tongue. "No, sir," he said.

"Then do what yer told, man, unless you wanna lose yer job!"

With great reluctance, McCloud did so, scooping up the battered and drifting Droop-a-Long. Despite his light frame, he was heavier than he looked. Marcus winced when he got a good look at the coyote's body. Someone had done a number on him; he'd been beaten so badly, he could actually see the broken ribs through his fur. "Don' move until we get to town, alright?"

"T-Trust me...I ain' in no shape to go nowheres," Droop-a-Long said. "Ooh, my achin' ribs..."

"You've got a lot more than those to worry about, coyote," McCloud said, making his way off the platform. His week had already been bad; now this had to happen to make it even worse. "This is gonna be a long day..."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 _ **Yeah...this was supposed to be the end. But then a whole lot of ideas happened. And then I realized that trying to end it would feel too rushed, you know?  
**_

 _ **And I realized that I am being totally horrible to Ricochet right now. Having him believe that his best friend's dead and then reveal that he isn't...oh, well, at least he won't find out- *gets Ricochet Revolver to the face***_

 _ **The next chapter will be the final part of this arc, and then we'll get back to more happy, lighthearted stuff...until my next dark idea, that is *laughs evilly***_

 _ **See you around next chapter!**_

 _ **God Bless, iheartgod175**_


	17. Short 17: Protector---Part 3

**A/N:** Alright, everyone! Listen up!

Last chapter, I said that this was supposed to be the final part of the _Protector_ arc. But I put so many things in the final part that it ended up being nearly 30,000 words long, which is WAY too long for a chapter. So what I've done was that I split the chapter into two parts. Chapter 18 will be the _real_ last part of this arc, and then we'll move into lighter fare. At this point, I'm thinking of extending the story even more, since I'm having way too much fun writing about this universe.

Last time on _Blazin' Trails_ , the good news that Ricochet's been cleared of charges has been dampened by the horrible news of Droop-a-Long's disappearance. A broken Ricochet is ready to give up, and Dave and Chuck are ready to swoop in and take what they believe is theirs...but surprising news may turn the tides on this charade.

Okay, I'll shut up and let you enjoy the chapter now. :D

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet and Droop-a-Long. Although considering what I put them through sometimes, maybe that's a good thing...

* * *

 **Story 17: Protector**

 **Part 3**

"Hey, Marcus, didja get-whoa, what the heck is _that_?!"

Marcus McCloud groaned as he hefted the unconscious and battered Droop-a-Long in his arms. Carrying this large coyote was starting to take its toll on him. "Quit talkin', Newly, and get a bed ready. My arms feel like lead from carryin' him for so long," he said.

"Uh, right. Jus' give me a moment, Marcus." Newly rushed into the other room, the door banging shut behind him.

The noise awoke Droop-a-Long, who erupted into a brief coughing fit before stopping with a groan. Marcus looked down at him, wincing. "Hey, don't go on me now, coyote," he said. "We haven't even treated ya yet."

" _Ghhh_...need...water..." Droop-a-Long wheezed. "D-Do ya have any...?"

"Sure, we've got some. I'll get it for ya an' then I'm sendin' for a doctor," Marcus said.

Newly exited the room right at that moment, motioning for Marcus to come in. "Finally," Marcus grunted as he made his way in.

After setting Droop-a-Long down on the bed and making sure he was comfortable, Newly turned towards Marcus with a worried expression. "What is it, Marcus?" he asked.

"He's a coyote," Marcus replied. "Found 'im in a bag on the train. Calls himself Deputy Droop-a-Long."

"D-Deputy?!" Newly shouted. He turned back to look at Droop-a-Long, who had dozed off again, and then pushed Marcus out of the room. After closing the door, he turned back to Marcus, his dark blue eyes alight with anger. "Are ya outta your mind?! You brought a lawman here of all places?!"

"Well, it's not like I wanted ta bring him here, pea brain! I tried to leave the scene when the 'boss' ordered me to take him to the nearest place in town. You're lucky I didn't get busted!"

"With him here, we will! I say we off 'im while we still have the chance," Newly answered.

"Are you outta your mind? That'll only set the townspeople off," Marcus yelled. "We'll hang if we kill him."

Newly sighed, rubbing his temples. "Then what do we do with 'im?" he asked.

"We'll have to keep 'im here for now. 'sides...it looks like he's the deputy to another sheriff," he said. "And if he's missin', there could be a report of it somewhere."

Newly looked up at him, dawning comprehension on his face. "And there's a report out there, then the sheriff's lookin' for 'im." He smirked greedily. "There might be a big reward for bringin' him in alive."

Marcus clapped a hand on his shoulder. "See? I knew there was a reason for keepin' you around, Newly."

"Whaddya mean by that?!"

"Aw, I'm jus' kiddin' with ya, Newly. Well, mostly." Laughing at Newly's angry face, Marcus turned to head into the room. "You go ahead an' get the doc. I'll wait here with our...special guest."

* * *

 _Hoop 'n Holler_

 _Sheriff Ricochet Rabbit's Office_

The sun had set over Hoop 'n Holler, and with it came a darkness that nobody had ever seen before. Most people were putting their lanterns on early because of it.

For Ricochet, the darkness was symbolic. It was a dark day for the law. A horrendous crime had been committed, the criminals were still at large, a body had disappeared...and a friend had been robbed of his life. Ricochet sat in the darkness of his office, not moving or saying much of anything. Droop-a-Long's hat was still clutched tightly in his arms, as though it would crumble to dust if he let go of it.

Conflicting emotions filled his soul. He was utterly broken by what had happened to Droop-a-Long, but a part of him felt anger towards the coyote. If he had listened to his advice about not worrying about his being in jail, none of this would've happened. If he'd had the slightest inkling of what the coyote had tried to do, he would've stopped him before he got himself killed. Earlier, he'd imagined himself yelling at Droop-a-Long for almost putting himself in danger.

Just as quickly, his anger towards Droop-a-Long turned on him. He hadn't been able to protect the coyote like he'd promised himself he would. He should've heard the noises that the townspeople heard last night; he should've rushed to his deputy's aid. He should've been protecting Droop-a-Long from potential enemies, not the other way around. He should've died, not Droop-a-Long.

But he hadn't done any of those things. And now, Droop-a-Long was gone, in the most permanent way possible.

Sniffling, he said, "W-Wherever ya are now, Droop, I hope you're in a good place. I-If anythin', you deserve it for bein' so selfless." Willing himself to let go of the hat at last, he got down from his chair and went over to light the lantern in the corner of the room. It took a little fumbling, but he finally got it on. The office was soon bathed in orange yellow light, and he made his way to the stairs. His stomach was empty, but he didn't feel like eating at the moment. All he felt like doing was going to sleep.

No sooner had he reached the second floor than there was a knock on the wall. "Sheriff? Are ya in here?"

Ricochet suppressed a groan as he made his way down the stairs again. "Yeah, I am. Is there somethin' ya need?"

Standing on the porch was one of the men that he saw earlier when he came to the office. He was a little under average height, had light brown hair, and light green eyes. He wore a white and green plaid shirt with brown overalls. He looked somewhat sheepish standing in the doorway, as though he were breaking a law.

"Sorry to come in so late, Sheriff...I'm real sorry about what happened to Deputy Droop-a-Long," he said.

"Thanks," Ricochet said. He'd heard that sentence multiple times throughout the day and wanted nothing more than to stop hearing it. "He was my best friend."

"He was a good friend of mine, too," the man said. When Ricochet looked at him quizzically, he said, "A few years ago, there was that time you guys saved me from falling off a cliff and into a waterfall."

"That was mostly Droop-a-Long, though," Ricochet said. He smirked a little. "I was amazed he could swim that fast..."

"After that, I repaid him by giving him one of my ma's meat pastries," he said. "Occasionally, we'd talk, but...oh, geez, I'm sorry." He stopped upon seeing Ricochet start to tremble again. "I-I wasn't tryin' ta make you feel bad again..."

"I-It's alright," the rabbit replied. He balled his hands into a fist, willing himself to not cry again. "I-I'll be alright." He wiped his burning eyes and made his way over to the desk. Placing his deputy's hat on the ground for the time being, he sat in the chair and said, "Well, I-I bet you didn't come here jus' to remind me of what happened to Droop-a-Long."

"No, sir, I didn't." He cleared his throat. "But I just wanted to know if you were gonna take this up as a case."

"I told the mayor earlier that I'm not gonna take it up," Ricochet sighed.

"It's not jus' because this is a personal case, Sheriff. When I looked into this room earlier, I had a strange feelin'. Someone wanted him dead."

"I wonder what clued ya in: the bullet holes in the wall, or the pool o' blood on the floor," Ricochet replied bitterly.

"All I'm sayin', I think there's somethin' bigger goin' on, Sheriff. And I think gettin' rid of you and Droop-a-Long was part of it," the man said.

Ricochet groaned. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," he answered.

"Maybe if ya looked back at the facts, Sheriff, it'll line up. I've been followin' this ever since Droop-a-Long showed up to Town Hall yesterday afternoon," he said. "And when I got the whole story, I got to thinkin' that."

"So, what are you tryin' ta say?" Ricochet asked.

"I'm tryin' ta say that you shouldn't give up yet, Sheriff. Can ya at least promise me that you'll think about it?"

Ricochet sighed and rubbed his temples. What he was really thinking about was saying several choice words to this guy, but he contained his anger for the time being. Looking up at the man, he said, "I never did get your name."

"Oh, uh, it's Jeb. Jeb Forrest."

"Well, Jeb, I ain't makin' a guarantee that I'll turn it into a case, but I'll keep that thought in mind," he said. "I've jus' got too much on my plate right now, so..."

"Oh, uh, right...sorry. I'll leave now if you want me to."

More than anything, Ricochet wanted him to. "You go on ahead, Jeb. Get some rest."

"You look like you could use it, Sheriff," Jeb replied. "Well, uh, good night."

Ricochet groaned as the man walked out. Jeb reminded him of his third deputy, Sherman, with how nervous he was around him until he got to speaking his mind. Quite frankly, he didn't know if he could trust him. After all, Droop-a-Long had never made any mention of him, so he couldn't be sure if he was even telling the truth about being his deputy's friend.

Then again, Droop-a-Long had never made any mention of Dave and Chuck, either.

As he made to go upstairs, however, he couldn't help but wonder. His arrest and Droop-a-Long's death had occurred on the same day...that didn't seem like a coincidence. He stopped in his tracks, mulling over that in his mind for a moment. The more he thought of it, the more Jeb's theory began to make sense. His right hand curled into a fist, and he started to tremble again, but this time not from sorrow.

"I can't believe it...how could I be so _stupid_?" he muttered. "I've gotta go find Jeb an' get him back in here!"

With a twirling of his foot, Ricochet shot out of the office. The gust of wind that followed caused the wooden planks on the floor, as well as his desk, to be ripped from the floor. The few people that were out and about gasped in surprise as Ricochet bounced off of the walls of the buildings, heading directly for the saloon. The doors burst open when he came in, and the rush of wind that followed made everyone turn to him in surprise.

"Hey, it's the sheriff!" someone called out.

"Listen folks, I'm lookin' for a fella named Jeb Forrest. Have any of ya seen 'im?" Ricochet asked.

Nobody answered for a moment. Right before Ricochet asked again, a hand slowly went up in the air. Everyone turned to face Jeb, who slowly climbed down from his chair and made his way to the middle.

"Y-You called me, Sheriff?" he asked.

"Yes. As it turns out...that stuff I called nonsense jus' made a whole lotta sense," Ricochet said.

"Whaddya mean by nonsense, Sheriff?" someone asked.

"Jeb here makes up a whole lotta that!" another said, and the whole saloon erupted into laughter. Jeb turned bright red in embarrassment.

"Guys, this is no laughin' matter!" Ricochet said. When everyone settled down, he turned to Jeb. "Jeb, you told me that someone was plannin' to get rid of me and Droop-a-Long. I didn't believe ya at first, but then I got to thinkin'...and realized that you were right. The timin's just uncanny. If I don't do somethin' soon, that same person will try to kill me, too."

"So, what are ya gonna do, Sheriff?" Jeb asked.

"I'm gonna take this up as a case," Ricochet said, "an' stop this plot dead in its tracks."

"B-But Sheriff...you're still, you know, d-dealin' with what happened to Droop-a-Long," Jeb asked. "Are ya sure you're gonna be alright?"

"I will be, Jeb. I...I still miss my deputy, but if there's one thing I won't do, that's lettin' a criminal get away. The person who killed Droop-a-Long won't get away with this," Ricochet said. He frowned as he slammed a fist into his palm. "That I'll make sure of."

"Now that's the sheriff we know!" one of the people called, and everyone cheered.

When the noise settled down, Ricochet said, "Alright, everyone. I'm startin' this case first thing tomorrow. After that, nothin's gonna stop me 'til I find the person who came up with this plan!"

"Good luck, Sheriff," Jeb said. "You're gonna need it if you're goin' after the fellers who did this."

He made his way to leave, but Ricochet's hand seized his wrist. "Not so fast, Jeb. You're comin' with me," he said.

"But I didn't do anything!"

"I didn't mean that as in you're goin' ta jail! I mean that you're comin' to help me on this case," Ricochet clarified.

Jeb stared at him with wide eyes. "You really want my help, Sheriff?" he asked.

"Since you're the only person who actually supported Droop-a-Long, I'll need it. Now come on. We've gotta get back to the office."

"Sure thing, Sheriff!"

The two left the saloon and things started to settle down at the saloon. Two minutes later, another man left the saloon, heading for the borders of town. His hands were balled into fists and his face was pale.

"I'm a dead man walkin' for tellin' them this," Zeb muttered.

* * *

 _At the county jail..._

Dave was asleep when something hard hit the floor. Shooting to his feet, his hand instinctively reached for his gun, only to remember that he didn't have it. He looked up as Zeb made his way over to his cell. His expression was pained. That wasn't new to Dave. Zeb always looked like that, as though he were always worried about something. Still, he had to ask.

"What's goin' on, Zeb? I've already sent the check to your house; it should be there by tomorrow mornin'," he said.

"T-That's not why I'm here, Dave. You guys won't believe this, but...Ricochet's out of jail," Zeb said.

Dave stared at Zeb for a moment, his expression unchanging. A split second later, his hand thrust through the bars and seized the front of Zeb's shirt. He yanked him towards the bars, causing his head to collide with them. Zeb stifled a cry of pain as he looked at the furious Dave.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?!" he snarled. His glare could have killed Death itself.

"I-I...R-Ricochet's outta jail. I-I guess they shortened his sentence or somethin', but he's back in office and he's gunnin' for the people who got the deputy," Zeb stammered.

"And you were gonna tell me this when?!"

"T-Tomorrow...but I was afraid he'd get to ya f-first," Zeb said. He swallowed. "P-Please don't kill me, Dave."

"Oh, I won't...not yet, at least." Dave shoved Zeb backwards, ripping off a part of his shirt. "What did you do to Droop-a-Long, anyway? For once, I hope your conscience kicked in, 'cause if you killed 'im, Ricochet's gonna come gunnin' for ya an' there's nothin' I can do about it."

"I-I didn't kill 'im. I told Paul an' the others to beat 'im up. After that, I told them to get a sack, put him in it, an' store him on a train that was comin' in," Zeb said. "Nobody even saw us."

"He was still alive when ya put him in there, right?"

Zeb nodded, and then shuddered. "I still remember his breathin'..."

"Well, he's as good as dead by now," Dave answered. He chuckled. "Boy, won't the sheriff get his ears in a twist over this."

"He won't. I was thinkin' of takin' the boys with me to make sure that that coyote really is gone. That train must've been on its way to Youngsville."

"That'll be a long ride. You'd better get outta town, before the sheriff finds out what you've done. He may be a bit crazy with all his 'ping-ping-pinging', but he's scary smart," Dave said.

"When are you gettin' out of jail, Dave?"

Dave chuckled. "That is a good question. And I believe I've found my answer," he said, looking at Zeb. "There's one more job I want ya ta do for me before you an' the others head up to Youngsville."

"And what's that?"

"I want ya to do the same thing that that dumb deputy did, and that's ta get me an early release," Dave said. "And if the mayor gives ya any problems, well...ya know what to do."

Zeb nodded. "Got it."

* * *

 _Ricochet awoke with a start, shooting out of bed like an arrow. He was hot, sweating bullets and a pit of anxiety was forming at the base of his stomach. It was a sensation he had rarely unless something was really wrong, as he hardly ever got anxious. But he didn't understand what could be wrong. After all, it'd been quiet when he'd finally dozed off. Surely Droop-a-Long was keeping things together, wasn't he?_

 _He tried to calm himself down, and was about to settle back into the covers when his ears picked up the sound of a pained scream. He looked outside, and saw that nearly all of the lights in town were coming on._

 _"What in the blue blazes is goin' on?" the warden muttered, stumbling over to the front door. "Who'd be screamin' at this time of night?"_

 _Once again, anxiety flooded Ricochet's senses. Something was horribly wrong, and nobody was putting a stop to it. Droop-a-Long wasn't putting a stop to it. When he got out of here, he'd have some questions to ask his deputy about this._

 _Another scream tore through the air. Ricochet gripped the sheets on his bed, anger coursing through him. What was that coyote doing? As deputy sheriff, it was his duty to investigate a problem, especially one such as this! Nearly all of the townspeople were outside, some trying to find the source of the disturbace. Droop-a-Long should've been doing that, not sleeping like a log in the office, Ricochet thought angrily._

 _A louder, agonizing scream tore filled his ears then, followed by the horrified gasps of the townspeople. And then, horror the likes of which he'd never felt before filled his soul. His eyes widened as he turned towards the window, praying that his suspicion was wrong._

 _The wave of townspeople made their way to the sheriff's office. A few of them jumped back in terror, and a lone gunshot filled the air. A man dropped dead moments later, and the people took off running, screaming in terror._

 _Ricochet's hands grasped the bars, and he began to tug at them fiercely, his muscles screaming as he did so. The shaking alerted the warden, and he ran over to the cell, watching in shock as he continued to pull at the bars. "What do you think you're doin'? You can't get out that way!" he shouted. "You can't get outta here at all!"_

 _"I've gotta get outta here!" Ricochet grunted, pulling at the bars again. His arms felt like they were on fire, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. "I've…gotta…see…"_

 _"Ricochet, you're insane if you think I'll let ya do this!"_

 _Ricochet's response was a loud grunt as he pulled at the bars with all his might, his face turning red with exertion. The warden started to say something else when a loud snap was heard. He stared in shock as the bars tore themselves completely from the window, and Ricochet flung backwards and slammed against the cell door, groaning in pain._

 _After a long moment of standing in dumbfounded confusion, the warden started with, "R-Ricochet, what in the Sam Hill-"_

 _"No time…" Ricochet breathed out, stumbling to his feet. "Gotta…get there in time…"_

 _"Ricochet, if you go out there, you're gonna spend more time in jail!"_

 _Ricochet turned towards him, his expression fierce. "An' if I don't, my best friend is gonna spend eternity in a grave!" he snapped. He ran towards his bed, and started to climb out the window._

 _"RICOCHET, STOP!" the warden yelled, but Ricochet jumped out of the window, regardless.  
_

 _As soon as he hit the ground, Ricochet was gone, flying through the desert at breakneck speeds. Lines of cacti bent at a forward angle, and those who were standing outside were almost dragged along with the rush of powerful wind that he'd started up.  
_

 _Two men were on the porch of the sheriff's office, standing at attention, their rifles at their sides. One of them saw him, and raised their rifles to fire. Ricochet dodged the bullets with the grace of a gymnast, and leaped into the air a few inches away from the stairs. The man had no time to react before Ricochet's foot slammed into the man's face, sending him crashing to the ground._

 _Ricochet landed on the ground hard, and it was then that the man behind him ran towards him, his hands outstretched. He swung his foot again, catching him below his waist. The man let out a small scream of pain, falling to his knees and Ricochet took the opportunity to send him flying off the railing with a punch to the face. Just like his partner, he went spinning off of the porch and into the street.  
_

 _A scream came from inside the office, and Ricochet turned towards the door, his glare fierce. With all the strength he had, he kicked open the door, sending it crashing against the wall._

 _In the middle of the office were four men, all of them holding clubs and other weapons. All of their weapons and their faces were spattered with blood._ _Droop-a-Long was in the center of the group, his head buried in a pool of his own blood. His arms and legs were bent at unnatural angles, and horrific gashes were lined all across his body, leaking blood. His chest rose and fell as he took sharp, short breaths. Droop-a-Long's finger twitched, and a small groan escaped his lips._

 _Aside from Droop-a-Long's shallow breathing, dead silence filled the office. All eyes were currently on Ricochet, who looked like a bomb about to explode. Some of the men backed away in terror, fear in their eyes. One of the men stared at him, paralyzed with fear, while the leader of the gang sneered cruelly and lifted Droop-a-Long up from the floor by the scruff of his neck. Blood dripped from Droop-a-Long's snout onto the floor._

 _"Well, well, well," the man sneered. "Look who came to yer rescue, Deputy. It's your old pal, Ricochet."_

 _Groaning, Droop-a-Long looked up at the sheriff then. His pink fur had gone a dark red due to the blood having seeped into it, and his right eye was swollen shut and the other red with tears. His eye widened in relief when he saw Ricochet._

 _"M-Mr. Ricochet...t-thank goodness..." he breathed, his voice small and hoarse._

 _"Step away from my deputy,_ this instant." _Ricochet's tone was venomous, and his glare could have killed a legion of people and then some. "An' that's_ not _a request, neither."_

 _The man holding Droop-a-Long smirked cruelly. "I would, but you ain't the sheriff anymore, Ricochet!" he said. "Guess that leaves me free to do what I want."_

 _"P-Please...let go..." Droop-a-Long said._

 _The man's smirk widened. "Not a chance." He then slammed Droop-a-Long's face into the floorboards, cracking them with the force and forcing another tortured scream from Droop-a-Long._

 _Ricochet lunged, but it was then that hands seized his arms. The men he'd knocked out earlier had his arms and legs, and were keeping a tight grip on him. He couldn't break free, no matter how hard he tried. Sneering, the man who had Droop-a-Long's face buried in the floor motioned to his teammates, who surrounded him in a circle._

 _"P-Please..." Droop-a-Long pleaded weakly. "D-Don't-"_

 _His tormentor answered his plea with a brutal blow to his back, making him gasp in pain. The other men quickly followed suit, and Droop-a-Long's screams of anguish filled the office again._

 _"L-Let 'im go!" Ricochet screamed, twisting and pulling as hard as he could._

 _"Make us!" Droop-a-Long's tormentor sneered, and delivered another brutal hit. Droop-a-Long's scream of agony only made Ricochet even more restless._

 _The men holding Ricochet laughed at his struggle to break free. His eyes briefly settled on Droop-a-Long, and they widened in horror as the outlaws continued to reduce him to a bloody mess. His arms and legs were bent at impossible angles, and his face was buried in the floor. His body shuddered with every ragged breath he took._

 _"Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet yelled, and he felt his eyes burn with tears._

 _At that, the outlaws stopped, and everyone except their leader moved away from the scene. Their faces were covered with Droop-a-Long's blood. Droop-a-Long still lay on the floor shuddering, gasping for air._

 _"D-Don't..." Ricochet choked out. The tears were starting to fall from his eyes now. "H-He didn't do n-nothin' to deserve this! Don't kill 'im!"_

 _"Wow. I finally found the one thing that can make Ricochet Rabbit break," the leader mused. He looked down at Droop-a-Long, who was trying to move by pushing himself up on his broken arms. "Any last words, Deputy Droop-a-Long?"_

 _Droop-a-Long lifted his head at last, and the sight was awful. Ricochet felt his blood freeze as he looked at his best friend, who looked at him with fear and desperation. He opened his mouth, but he retched, and the only thing that spilled out of it was spit and blood._

 _Ricochet trembled. "D-Droop..."_ He's dyin', _he thought._ My best friend is dyin' right in front of me and I can't do anythin' to save him...

 _"Well?" the leader demanded, glaring at the coyote._

 _Drawing in a shuddering breath, Droop-a-Long looked at Ricochet, his other eye becoming redder with tears. "M-M...Mister...Rico-"_

 _"Took too long." The leader of the outlaws readied his club._

 _"NO, DON'T!" Ricochet screamed, but it was too late._

 _The club struck Droop-a-Long's head like a bolt of lightning. The coyote hit the floor hard, his eyes rolling into his head as he did so. His fingers twitched briefly before they stopped moving altogether._

 _Ricochet couldn't bring himself to say anything, or even scream. Horror the likes of which he'd never felt before had closed up his throat, stealing his voice. He stared at the scene before him, watching as the men wiped their faces off with their handkerchiefs._

 _"Well, that finished 'im. Useless deputy was a waste of time," the man snarled._

 _"Well, at least he's outta our hair," another said. "Don't know why the sheriff was tryin' to protect 'im."_

 _Ricochet shuddered violently. The men holding him laughed. "Aw, look, Ricochet's gettin' upset. But he can't do nothin' once we turn 'im loose," they said._

"I'll kill you." _Ricochet's voice had returned, and his tone was vengeful. He glared at the leader of the outlaws as he tried to wrench out his captors' grip. "I swear, I'll make you_ regret _killin' Droop-a-Long!"_

 _"No, you won't!" The men flung him backwards, and Ricochet found himself tumbling to the ground. The men laughed at him and prepared to close the door._

 _He spit out the sand that had come up in his throat, and he got to his feet, adrenaline and rage coursing through his veins. He flew up the steps and flung the door open again, this time sending it flying off its hinges and crashing against the wall. He stood in front of the outlaws, his expression full of furious sorrow as he drew his gun.  
_

 _"You..." He all but spat the word. "I'll-"_

 _"You can't avenge your friend, Sheriff," the man said, his sneer cruel and mocking. "How can someone who broke his word avenge his best friend?"  
_

 _Ricochet's gun arm trembled. "Shut up!"_

 _"Kinda twisted when ya think about it, right?" he said. "You failed in keepin' your word, Sheriff. An' you're gonna have to live with that for the rest of your life."_

 _Ricochet stopped, the man's words stopping him cold and forcing all his emotions against him. He looked down at Droop-a-Long's body, focusing on his wounds, his broken bones. He remembered Droop-a-Long's fingers twitching before they'd lost life in them completely. His gun arm trembled again, this time not out of rage._

 _Droop-a-Long had died horribly, right in front of his eyes, and he'd done nothing to stop it. His best friend had suffered horribly all because he couldn't keep his word to protect him from people like these murderers. Even avenging him would do nothing to change the fact that he'd failed._

 _Ricochet started back in horror. The man laughed, and was soon right in front of him, the bloodied club in his hands. "Too late, Sheriff!" he sneered, and swung down..._

Ricochet burst out of bed, choking on a scream. His heart was thundering in his chest, and sweat clung to the skin under his fur. He hung over, heaving short, sharp breaths one after the other. After a few moments, he managed to get his heart rate and breathing back to normal, although he still felt lightheaded. He looked over at his alarm clock and frowned. No wonder he felt lightheaded-he'd only gone to sleep a few hours before. He took a look out the window, and saw that the sun was shining brightly through the curtains.

He held his head in his hands, tears starting to prick at the corners of his eyes. He knew it was nothing more than a nightmare, but he hardly if ever had those, and very rarely did those nightmares involve his loved ones. And even if they were about those he loved, they were never as gruesomely detailed as the one he'd just had.

He shuddered as his mind came up with the reason as to why. His nightmare was more than that.

 _That must've been how Droop-a-Long died. It must've been awful, sufferin' like that an' nobody was there to stop it..._ The tremors ran up and down his arms, and he struggled to not cry. I _wasn't there to stop it..._

Someone knocked on his door, causing him to jolt. "Hey, uh...Sheriff Ricochet?" Jeb's voice came tentatively from the other side. "Are ya awake?"

"Uh, y-yeah, I am," Ricochet said, wiping his eyes and trying to keep the tears out of his voice. "What's goin' on, Jeb?"

"I jus' wanted to let you know I made breakfast for ya," Jeb said. Thankfully, he didn't seem to notice. "I'll be downstairs if ya need anythin'."

"That's right nice of ya to do so, thanks," Ricochet said. "Give me ten minutes an' I'll be down thar."

"Okay, Sheriff!" Jeb replied. He then went down the stairs, his cowboy boots clacking loudly on the wooden floor.

Ricochet swung himself over the bed, making his way to the washroom. Tears pricked at his eyes again and he swiped at them again, biting back a curse. "I-I sure hope I won't need more than ten minutes ta pull myself together..."

* * *

"...I mean, the last thing I expected was to be hired as a temporary deputy 'til we find out what happened to Droop-a-Long."

"Right."

"I consider it an honor, Sheriff. I mean, it's always an honor to work alongside a hero."

"Shucks, well, it's nothin'."

"Nothin'? Sheriff, I would've been stuck in the farmyard for the rest of my life!" Jeb said.

Ricochet nodded absentmindedly as he stirred up his coffee. He'd had to take his black today; there wasn't any more cream or sugar when he'd went in the kitchen. He guessed that Droop-a-Long had used up the rest of it yesterday, something he would've been surprised by if he weren't in dire need of it. His lack of sleep was apparent to anybody who saw him-Jeb had asked if he'd slept well, and Ricochet had told him that it was mostly because of his initiating Jeb as his junior deputy. He had no intention of telling his new junior deputy about his nightmare; the last thing he wanted was Jeb asking if he was alright.

He would've been fine to have a day alone to think, but his junior deputy was also a morning person, not to mention a chatterbox. Ricochet knew he had no real reason to be upset with Jeb. He was friendly enough, liked telling jokes, and wanted to do his best at his new job. And he'd tried to cheer him up when he'd seen how down he was. In other words, he was somewhat like Droop-a-Long, only that he was far more extroverted.

Perhaps that was the problem. Jeb reminded him a bit too much of Droop-a-Long, which was something he didn't want right then. It still hurt to think about him, much less mention him without crying. Even if he did find the killer, it wouldn't change the fact that he would never see Droop-a-Long again, that he'd failed in protecting him.

 _You failed._ Those words echoed through his mind. _You're not supposed to fail. But you failed to see your best friend's suffering. You failed to keep your promise. You failed to see the bigger picture, and now you're paying for it like Droop-a-Long did._

 _You failed..._

"Sheriff? Sheriff, what's wrong? You're crying!"

Jeb's words brought Ricochet back to reality. He felt wetness against his cheeks and his eyes started to blur over again. Sighing, he hurriedly wiped his eyes and fought to regain control. "S-Sorry about that, Jeb...t-there's nothin' to worry about," he said. "I-I'm fine..."

He heard the scraping of a chair and footsteps. "Sheriff, you're not alright. I-If it was somethin' I said, I'm sorry," Jeb replied. "I didn't mean to remind ya of Deputy Droop-a-Long..."

Something in Ricochet snapped at that. He gave Jeb such a fierce look that the man stepped back a bit. "A-And yet, ya do, anyway! A-Almost everythin' you do reminds me of him!" he shouted. "You're nice like 'im, ya make t-the strangest jokes like 'im, you're always a-apologizin' like he did, and...y-yer jus' too nice for your own good like he was!" He slammed his fist on the table, only for his hand to collide with a splinter. He yelped in pain and grasped his hand, covering the wound with his other hand.

"Sheriff!" Jeb got down on his knees to get to the sheriff's eye level. When he saw Ricochet's bloodied hand, he reached out for it. "Sheriff, please let me help-"

"You've helped enough!" Ricochet snapped, smacking Jeb's hand away. "And I don't need it now!"

"Sheriff..."

Dead silence filled the room for a good few moments. Jeb looked down at the ground, dejected, while Ricochet glared at his injury with a teary, angry expression. Jeb sighed as he took off his hat.

"Look, Sheriff...I-I'm sorry. I reckon I was a bit inconsiderate."

Ricochet remained silent, still cradling his injury.

"I mean, y-yesterday, you did lose your deputy..."

"Droop-a-Long was not jus' my deputy," Ricochet said finally. "Y-You jus' don't understand...Droop-a-Long was my best friend as well as my deputy."

"But how did ya even get to be best friends? Since, you know, you're you, and Droop-a-Long was...well, Droop-a-Long." Jeb laughed a little, but it quickly fell short.

Ricochet sighed as he looked at Jeb at last. He looked so sad that Jeb was tempted to give him a hug, but he wasn't sure how such an action would sit with him. Ricochet's eyes focused on Droop-a-Long's hat, and he got down from the chair and scooped it up before sitting back in his chair.

"W-When I first met Droop-a-Long, I didn't like coyotes a bit. So you can guess how I reacted to him when I first met 'im. I'd gone to his town ta find a deputy, hopefully a rabbit like me. But I ended up leavin' Droop's town with him as my deputy. He'd saved my life, but more importantly, he'd been nice to me. H-He had every right to be jus' as mean to me as I was to 'im, and yet he still reached out ta me. He'd shown me that not all coyotes are jus' mindless monsters."

Ricochet chuckled slightly at the memory of his first year working with Droop-a-Long. "Of course, h-he got on my nerves m-more than any other deputy I've ever had, and we've argued a lot, too. There were times where I wanted ta fire 'im. But the longer we worked together, the longer I got used to 'im. And the longer I got used to 'im, the more I hated the idea of lettin' him leave. I-I didn't realize how much I needed him 'round here 'til yesterday. A-And I realized that even if I got another deputy, n-no one would ever fit like Droop-a-Long had. Nobody could replace him."

Jeb sat there for a moment, staring at the sheriff with wide eyes. "Did...did you think I was trying to replace him?" he asked.

"Well...t-the thought was there, anyhow," Ricochet said. "I-It's part of the reason I didn't wanna hire ya..."

"Y-You mean...you weren't plannin' on makin' me your junior deputy at first?"

"A-A lot of people have been clamorin' to be my deputy. But I can't jus' grab some feller off the street an' make him one. Most of them are in it 'cause they wanna be popular, like me. And if there's one thing I can't stand, it's showboaters."

"Kinda funny ya say that, Sheriff."

"And why's that?"

"You kinda tend to do that yourself."

Ricochet sent a small glare at Jeb, and Jeb raised his hands in surrender. "I-I'm not sayin' you show off like you're the greatest thing alive, Sheriff. It's jus' that you do get a lil' bit cocky sometimes..."

"Oh, and I reckon you're an expert on me all of a sudden, eh?" Ricochet said.

"N-No, it's not that, Sheriff, I...I was jus' pointin' it out..."

Ricochet sighed. "Well, it runs in the family, I reckon. Us Ricochets are a bit proud of our achievements," he said. "Droop-a-Long told me once that I sounded like a brass horn in a marchin' band."

Jeb laughed. "When did he say that?"

"Durin' one of our arguments, I think. Droop wasn't one to get angry, but ya would've been surprised to hear what came outta his mouth when he was riled up," Ricochet said. He sighed, and his ears flopped downwards. "Dag _nabit,_ I miss 'im..."

Jeb's eyes became downcast. "I miss 'im, too. He was one o' my friends, an' I think that happened to 'im was awful..."

"H-How do I know you're tellin' the truth?"

"About what? Bein' Droop-a-Long's friend?" Jeb asked.

Ricochet nodded. "He never mentioned you," he said.

Jeb said, "Not long after that waterfall incident, I ran into him at the saloon, lookin' kinda bored. I'd come by the office lookin' for 'im 'cause of those meat pastries, but it was empty. When I saw him, I decided to tell a joke to cheer him up. He thanked me for helping him feel better an' told me that he was supposed ta meet ya for a case, but...well, he'd ricocheted into the saloon by accident an' was gettin' a pick me up. I was jus' gonna give him the pastries an' go, but we got to talkin', and then I showed him how ta play pool. After that, we'd talk whenever I was in town ta get groceries."

"So that's why sometimes Droop-a-Long was gone for hours..." Ricochet mused.

"Yeah, I guess so. We weren't close like you an' him were, but I knew he'd never do somethin' like trick you into fightin' his enemies. He was nice an' always ready to help out," Jeb replied. "That's why I'm here to defend him, an' to help get justice for 'im."

"T-The only reason folks are startin' to defend him now is 'cause he's dead," Ricochet said. "You ain't supposed to speak ill will of a dead person..."

"Sheriff, hear me out for a moment, please," Jeb pleaded. "What I'm sayin' is the absolute truth."

Ricochet looked up at Jeb, his expression skeptical, but he didn't say anything else.

"Sheriff, when I came here, I didn't come here seekin' Droop-a-Long's job. On top of bein' jus' greedy, that's jus' disrespectful. Some feller can take his job, but nobody could replace Droop-a-Long. And I promise you, I ain't tryin' ta take his place as your deputy, or as your best friend. I came here to help you out, 'cause Droop-a-Long was my friend, too, an' I think it's wrong that the people who did this got away with it," Jeb said. "Plus...I didn't want ya to give up on him yet."

"But Jeb-"

"Sheriff, if Droop-a-Long decided to give up in gettin' ya out of jail, you wouldn't be here right now. If ya give up, it'll give the fellas who did this to him the freedom to run free," Jeb said. His gaze was determined as he looked at Ricochet. "As a friend of Droop-a-Long's, I can say with confidence that he'd never give up on somethin'. And this whole town admires ya. I admire ya. And we know that you'd never give up on a case, especially with dangerous outlaws like these. If Droop-a-Long didn't give up on ya, then you shouldn't give up on him, Sheriff. The Ricochet Rabbit we know never let somethin' like this slide."

Once again, total silence filled the office. Ricochet stared at Jeb, the skepticism wiped from his face. Upon seeing the rabbit's look of utter shock, Jeb's confidence faltered and he pulled at his neckerchief nervously. "O-Oh, shucks, I-I'm sorry, Sheriff...I-I reckon I got a little caught up with my spee-"

"You're right." Ricochet's soft reply caught Jeb off-guard. He looked at Ricochet, who was rubbing his head and laughing softly to himself. "You're absolutely right. D-Droop-a-Long didn't give up. H-He almost did, but I talked him outta it. An' now, the same thin's happenin' to me..."

"Uh, Sheriff?" Jeb asked worriedly. "Are ya alright?"

"I-I'm better than alright." Ricochet wiped his eyes. "I-I guess I judged ya too fast, Jeb. Shucks, I'm so sorry for what I said. I-I-"

"Say no more, Sheriff. I gets it. You're still missin' your best friend. And then some feller who says that he's friends with 'im jumps in and tries to help out," Jeb interrupted. "If I were in your shoes, Sheriff, I'd probably blow up, too."

"Even so, y-you were tryin' ta help me feel better an' take my mind offa things. I never shoulda yelled at you like that, even if I was blowin' off some steam. I'm mighty sorry, Jeb. C-Can ya forgive me?"

Jeb smiled a little. "There's nothin' to forgive, Sheriff. And I'm sorry, too. I reminded ya too much of Droop-a-Long when I was talkin' and I didn't even notice. I-I can't blame ya if you want me off the case, or if ya wanna fire me..."

"No...Jeb, I don't want ya off the case," Ricochet said. "I need your help. As much as I'd like to, I can't do this on my own. I need someone to help me in case them fellers prove too difficult."

"Too difficult for you, Sheriff? I doubt it."

Ricochet tried and failed to keep a smile from coming on his face. "Thanks, Jeb," he said. "But more importantly, I need someone to rein me in so I don't do anythin' stupid when I find 'em. And trust me, when I do, I ain't gonna be all calm. Droop-a-Long used to get scared of my temper for a reason."

"Yeah, he told me a few times 'bout how scary you are when you're mad. I'd hate to be the fellers who did do this."

"You took the words right outta my mouth," Ricochet said. He got up from his chair. "Well, I'd better go ahead an' get started with lookin' for more clues."

"Whaddya want me to do?" Jeb asked.

"Well, I could use a little help with tidyin' up this place," Ricochet said. "I was gonna do it myself, but I was too distracted."

Jeb smiled as he stood up. "Don't worry, Sheriff. By the time you come back from your clue hunt, this office will be spic an' span," he said.

"I appreciate that, Jeb," Ricochet said. He paused, and then added, "Oh, and...thanks for tryin' ta keep my mind off things. I mean it, thanks a lot."

Jeb, who had been getting the plates, looked up at Ricochet. His smile widened. "You're welcome, Sheriff."

* * *

 _Marcus McCloud's Base of Operations_

 _Havenport_

Pain filled Droop-a-Long's senses as he slowly opened his eyes. For a frightening moment, he thought he'd gone blind; the room was dark, and with his foggy vision, he couldn't tell where he was. A few seconds later, his vision began to refocus, and he blinked a few more times to get the blurriness out of his eyes. When he could finally see again, he found himself looking up at the ceiling. Voices could be heard outside, mostly muffled, although he could've sworn that someone was yelling.

He felt the coolness of sheets under him, as well as the rough material of a blanket being draped over him. He attempted to sit up, only to immediately give up on that idea. His entire left side was on fire, and he thought he felt his ribs shift painfully in that area. He looked at his paws, and saw that they were bandaged from his fingertips to his elbow. Moving the covers, he saw he was also heavily bandaged there as well. He wouldn't be able to move around for a long time, but it was much better than the alternative, which was being dead and trapped in a sack somewhere.

His mind drifted. He remembered bits and pieces of the beating those men had given him, but everything else was a blur. He guessed they had stuffed him in a bag and thrown him on a train, hoping he'd either bleed to death from his injuries or suffocate. That last one had nearly happened when he'd come to his senses, and the lack of oxygen had made him panic. He didn't know where he was, or who had taken him in. A face flashed in his mind, an annoyed one at that...but that could've been anybody. He only hoped that he was in safe hands.

He was just starting to relax when he heard the door open, and light flooded in. He looked up briefly upon hearing the heavy thud of boots hitting the ground. An average-sized man came in, a shock of raven hair combed to the side, and looking down at Droop-a-Long with amber eyes. He looked irritated, which made Droop-a-Long guess that he was the one who'd been yelling.

"So, you're awake," he said by way of greeting. "I take it we woke ya, huh?"

"Uh...I-I kinda woke up on my own," Droop-a-Long answered. He coughed a little to clear his throat. "D-Do ya know where I am?"

"You're in Havenport," he said. "An' we found you stuffed inside a bag, bloody and with lotsa broken bones."

"Ugh...that makes sense why I'd have all these here bandages on," Droop-a-Long said. "I'm much obliged for yer care, Mr..."

"Oh, it's Marcus. Marcus McCloud. But it's just McCloud to you," he said.

"Okay, then, Mr. McCloud," Droop-a-Long said. "I have ta thank ya for helpin' me out. I don' remember much after gettin' the stuffin' beat outta me..."

"What did you do to get a beatin' like that?" Marcus asked.

"Well...I-I made some folks back home mighty angry at me," Droop-a-Long answered.

Marcus scoffed. "Comes with bein' the lawman," he muttered.

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Figured that out the hard way," he said.

"Anyways, the doc came by last night an' worked his butt off tryin' ta keep you alive. He told us that we've gotta keep you here 'til you can move. An' apparently, that's gonna take a while."

"How long's a while?"

"Try several weeks to about a month or two."

"Oh, man...Mr. Ricochet's gonna be so worried an' angry when he finds out about this..."

Marcus blinked. "Wait, did you just say Ricochet?"

"Yeah. I'm the deputy to Sheriff Ricochet Rabbit, back in Hoop 'n Holler," Droop-a-Long said.

Marcus stared at him for a few moments more, and then shook his head as though waking from a dream. "Well, uh...that's gonna make you right popular 'round these parts. Ain't nobody 'round here that hasn't heard of Ricochet Rabbit."

"He's the fastest Sheriff in all the West," Droop-a-Long added. "Makes sense he'd be popular."

"Well, iffin' Ricochet's jus' as worried as you say he is, I reckon I should try an' send a message out ta Hoop 'n Holler," Marcus said.

"C-Can ya do that right now? I'd like the sheriff ta know I'm okay," Droop-a-Long said.

"I would, but I've gotta get to work," Marcus said. "Afterwards, I'll stop by the office an' ask for someone to send a message."

A small smile came on Droop-a-Long's face. Finally, this nightmare would be over soon. "Thank ya kindly, Mr. McCloud. I'm lucky that someone like you found me."

Marcus paused, and then offered a small chuckle. "You're welcome. And ta be honest, I feel kinda lucky to have found ya when I did, too." He made his way out of the room. "My friend Newly's still here, so if ya need anythin', call him. But fer now, you get your rest, alright?"

"Sure thing, Mr. McCloud," Droop-a-Long said.

As the room was enclosed in darkness again, Droop-a-Long sighed. "I sure hope Mr. Ricochet isn't sick with worry over what happened to me..."

* * *

Newly was outside when Marcus exited the house. The dark haired man looked up at him as he stepped onto the porch. "So, any news, Marcus?" he asked.

Marcus sighed, and then in a flat voice, told him everything that Droop-a-Long had told him. When he was done, Newly was staring at him with wide eyes.

"Holy moly...he's the deputy to _the_ Ricochet Rabbit?" Newly exhaled sharply and ran a hand through his hair. "We're in for it if we even _think_ of killin' him."

"I know, which is why I said we ain't gonna kill 'im at all. We're gonna fix 'im up an' make sure he's ready when we do call the sheriff down here," Marcus said. "If he learns we've been tendin' to him, we'll get an even bigger paycheck."

"But what if he learns what we're doin'?" Newly asked.

"He's not gonna do anythin' to us. After all, this ain't his town. Only the sheriff of this town can make arrests," Marcus answered. He smirked. "An' if he's offerin' a reward for what happened to his deputy, we'll be rollin' in the dough."

Newly sighed. "I jus' hope you know what you're gettin' yourself into with that coyote, Marcus. He looks like trouble."

"Trouble? Are ya kiddin' me?" Marcus laughed. "He thanked me for saving him. Says that he's lucky that I found him. An' I told him I'm lucky for findin' him, too...for reasons he'll never find out."

"So, are ya off ta get more shipments from the train?" Newly asked.

"Of course. It's my 'job', after all. You take care of Droop-a-Long 'til I get back," Marcus said, stepping off the porch.

"Jus' hope that you don't get any live surprises this time 'round," Newly called.

"Oh, trust me, I've got my gun to take care of that," Marcus replied.

* * *

 _Hoop 'n Holler_

 _Town Hall_

Unsurprisingly, Town Hall was in an uproar when Ricochet made his way inside. It was a fairly occurring sight, in Hoop 'n Holler at least, so Ricochet had no real trouble getting past the mob. After all, he'd done it a million times before. And the mob wasn't who he wanted to see right then.

He made his way up the stairs, made a left, and found himself standing outside of Mayor Nuggets' office. Knocking a few times, he said, "J.P., it's me. Your secretary told me that you'd be busy, but I need ta speak to ya-"

His ears picked up a low, painful groan. Ricochet tensed, and then knocked on the door again. "J.P.? Are ya alright?" he asked.

Another groan, this time, right by the door. Ricochet tried the handle, and found that it was locked. "Dagnabit!" He stepped back so he could force the door down, only to hear the fumbling of a lock. Carefully making his way to the door, he opened it-

J.P. Nuggets fell onto his shoulder, groaning in pain. Ricochet gasped as he saw the bloody gash on the back of the man's head. "J.P.! What happened to ya?!" he asked.

"Ugh...robbers...broke in...bashed me..."

"Hang on, J.P.!" Ricochet dragged the mayor back inside his office, which looked like a whirlwind had tore through the place. Papers were scattered everywhere, furniture had been overturned, and bullet holes were all over the walls. A pen stuck out of the wall like an arrow. And on the floor next to the desk was a bloodied, broken bust of the mayor himself.

Ricochet did his best to not tighten his grip on the half-conscious mayor. The same people who'd killed Droop-a-Long had attempted to assassinate the mayor as well. Setting the mayor against the overturned couch, he said, "Stay there, J.P. I'm goin' back downstairs ta get help!"

With a twirling of his foot, he raced down the steps, a trail of papers following him. He screeched to a halt in front of a pair of security guards, who glared down at him menacingly.

"What're you doin' up there?!" one of them demanded.

"There's no time to explain, fellas! J.P. Nuggets is hurt!" Ricochet explained breathlessly.

A chorus of shocked gasps filled the air. The guards ran up the stairs, almost bowling Ricochet over as they did so. As they raced up the steps, one of them turned around to shout, "Call a doctor, Sheriff! And I mean quick!"

"You don't have to tell me twice!" Ricochet said. He burst out of Town Hall, the force of his takeoff knocking people down and causing a few marble tiles to be ripped from the floor. He paid neither any mind as he raced to the doctor's office.

 _Whoever did this is gonna get it,_ he thought.

* * *

It would be a several hours before order was restored in town. Word of the assassination attempt spread like wildfire, and people were demanding answers. J.P. Nuggets, in his injured state, had tried to explain that someone had broken into the office and made some ridiculous demands, but he couldn't remember what the demand was. The doctor told all reporters to hold off on questions until the mayor was fully treated.

Ricochet stood outside of the room where J.P. was being treated, doing his best to ignore the shouts from outside. He and a few of the guards, as well as J.P.'s secretary, had been allowed inside the office, as they were the ones who the mayor deemed close enough to stay. Ricochet drummed his fingers impatiently on his elbow, and uncrossed his left leg for the fifth time in thirty minutes. The guards stood stonefaced next to J.P.'s door, while his secretary paced about nervously, biting her nails.

 _First I get put in jail, then Droop-a-Long gets offed, and now someone tries ta off J.P., too? This is gettin' outta hand..._

The door to J.P.'s room opened, and the doctor peeked his head out. "Uh, Sheriff? J.P. would like ta see you first," he said.

Ricochet nodded and made his way inside. "Don't worry, everyone. I'll get some answers from the mayor an' figure out who did this to 'im," he said.

The scent of disinfectant was strong to the point where he almost gagged. He looked at the mayor, who was laying in bed, his head wrapped in bandages. His right arm was also wrapped up in a cast. J.P.'s gold eyes were solemn as he looked at Ricochet.

"Well...this isn't how I planned on spendin' my afternoon," he said, smiling a little. It dropped when he saw the concerned look on Ricochet's face. Clearing his throat, he asked, "You alright?"

"I'm managin' as much as I can," Ricochet answered. "But this ain't about me, J.P. I wanna know what happened to ya an' why someone did this to you."

"Hmmm..." J.P.'s eyebrows narrowed. "This mornin', I was sittin' at my desk and workin' on paperwork when two men kicked my door down. I barely got out of the chair before they started shootin'. One of 'em was demandin' that I give his boss release papers. When I said I didn't have any, he started overturnin' my furniture and throwin' things outta desks. I tried to stop him, but that was when the other man, the one who was shootin', hurled a pen at me. It almost hit me in the eye!"

Ricochet remembered the pen, and winced at J.P.'s description. "Go on..."

"The one who'd torn my office apart an' ripped out papers demanded me to give 'em the release papers or they were gonna kill me. So...I grabbed the papers out of my desk an' I started to sign it, but then I realized I didn't know who their boss was. So I asked them. And when they told me, I was so horrified that I hesitated. The shooter took that chance to jump me."

"Who was their boss?" Ricochet asked.

J.P. sighed and then told him.

Ricochet's hand balled into a fist. "Those _scoundrels_ ," he snarled venomously. "I can't believe I didn't notice that!"

"Neither did I. But Droop-a-Long may have been right in thinking they were gonna get revenge on the pair of ya," J.P. replied. "D-Do ya think-"

"That they're the ones who killed Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet finished. His eyes were narrowing. "I'm more than sure of it."

J.P. was wary of the anger in Ricochet's eyes. "N-Now Ricochet, I wouldn't do anythin' hasty if I was you," he said. "I-I get that you're angry, but-"

"I know what you're goin' to say, J.P." Ricochet sighed, and then looked back up at the mayor. His expression had relaxed, but barely. "And trust me, my junior deputy told me that, too. But-"

"Wait, you have a junior deputy now?" J.P. interrupted.

"Yeah, I hired 'im yesterday. Turns out his theory was right about Dave an' Chuck," Ricochet said. "As I was sayin', my junior deputy told me that he'd make sure that I don't kill both of 'em when I catch 'em. But the thought that they did such a cruel thing to Droop-a-Long...it makes my blood boil."

"I get it, Ricochet. Nobody deserves to be killed like that, 'specially if they were the nicest people you could meet," J.P. said. "Say, who's your junior deputy?"

"Oh, the feller called himself Jeb. Nice guy, but he chatters like a parrot. He reminds me of Droop-a-Long a bit," Ricochet said.

"Wait...Ricochet, there's one other detail I jus' remembered."

"What's that, J.P.?"

"That feller you called Jeb...did he have brown hair an' green eyes?"

Ricochet blinked in confusion. He had no idea where these questions were coming from. "Yes...?"

J.P.'s eyes narrowed. "Ricochet...I hates ta tell you this, but...I reckon your junior deputy might be workin' for your enemies."

"What?" Ricochet gaped at him. "That's ridiculous, J.P.! Jeb was with me this mornin'!"

"I'm positive that the guy who clocked me in the head said his name was Jeb," J.P. said. "Either that, or I'm mishearin' things..."

Ricochet frowned. "Don't you worry, J.P. I'll get the full details from Jeb, an' find out what's goin' on. And if he did go behind my back an' do this to ya...I'm gonna have some choice words for 'im."

J.P. made to say more, but Ricochet shot out of the room so fast, the wind dragged him out of bed and sent him crashing to the floor. The doctor, his bodyguards and his secretary all came in upon hearing this.

J.P. groaned as he sat up. "You gotta admire his takeoffs sometimes..."

* * *

 _"Jeb!"_

Jeb, who had been in the middle of a nap, shot up from his spot on the floor upon hearing Ricochet's shout. Upon righting himself from his position on the floor, he looked down at the sheriff, who was glaring at him.

 _Oh, boy, what did I do now?_ Jeb wondered. "H-Howdy, Sheriff. Is there any trouble?"

"Yes there is...and it looks like you're right in the thick of it, Jeb," Ricochet said. "The mayor almost got assassinated this mornin', and he says that you were the one who put him in the hospital."

Jeb's eyes went wider than dinner plates. "W-What?! That's crazy! I-I'd never attack J.P. Nuggets, ever!" he said. "Why would he say I attacked 'im?"

"The fella that clocked him over the head looked a lot like you, and he said that Jeb was his name." Ricochet's eyes narrowed even more. "You got somethin' you wanna tell me, Jeb?"

"Sheriff, I swear on my badge that I was nowhere near the mayor's house this mornin'!"

"How do I know that? How do I know that you weren't sent here to keep an eye on what I was doin'?"

"Sheriff, what I told ya earlier was a theory. I did suspect Dave an' Chuck were involved, but I wasn't pretendin' a bit when I came here yesterday," Jeb argued.

"Who knows? Who knows if that whole bit about you bein' Droop-a-Long's friend was a lie, too, jus' so you could get on my good side?" Ricochet continued.

Jeb's hands were balling into fists, and he was shuddering. "Sheriff, I reckon you need ta take that back," he said.

"Why should I? Ya know, I wouldn't be too surprised if it turned out you pretended ta be Droop-a-Long's friend, and that you-"

 _"Shut up!"_ Jeb yelled. His face had gone redder than a strawberry, and he glared down at Ricochet. "So, is this how ya treat folks who wanna help you? Yell at 'em and accuse 'em of somethin' based offa what someone saw?" He pointed at himself. "I'm several things, Sheriff, but a traitor ain't one of them. And I ain't a liar, either. My friendship with Droop-a-Long was as real as your friendship with 'im, and I meant what I said this mornin' about helpin' you get justice an' that what happened to 'im was awful. But I'd never turn against my friends. I woulda never called myself Droop-a-Long's friend if I worked for those folks."

"Jeb-"

"You had your turn to yell, so you hush up an' listen!" Jeb snapped. Letting out a deep breath, he softened his voice. His throat felt scraped raw from yelling so loud. "I get that you findin' out the truth has you out for blood. I get that, I do. But remember how folks accused you and they didn't care what you said? You're doin' the exact same thing; you're accusin' me of bein' a mole for Dave 'n Chuck when you know for darn sure that I was here in this office, gettin' breakfast ready, and tryin' ta cheer ya up. You wanna be mad at them? Fine. Be mad. But if someone says somethin' accusin' towards someone else, you should jus' say, 'Ya know, Jeb, the mayor thinks you were the one who attacked 'im. I jus' wanna know if that's true'. You know what that is, Sheriff? That's how ya get answers. What you did? You almost made me _kill you._ "

Dead silence filled the room. Jeb was glaring at the rabbit, who was staring at him with a look of utter shock. Outside of the sheriff's office, a few people were standing outside, staring with wide eyes. When he looked at them, they quickly scampered off.

Jeb took another look at Ricochet, and then turned on his heel and headed towards the stairs. His boots clacked against the stairs so hard, Ricochet though he'd create holes in them. He then reached the second floor, flung open one of the doors to the guest room, and slammed the door. He sat on the bed and cradled his head in his knees.

What had he done to deserve such treatment? He'd thought that what happened this morning would have changed Ricochet's mind, but he could see it hadn't. If Ricochet was angry about Dave and Chuck's scheme, he could be angry. But he didn't have to blow up at him, much less accuse him of doing such a horrible crime.

He sighed deeply. _I guess this is how you felt sometimes, Droop-a-Long..._

* * *

Ricochet stared at the stairwell, utter aplomb on his face. Nobody, not even Droop-a-Long during their worst fights, had ever yelled at him like that. Jeb's words brought back events from the day before, when he'd been dragged to jail and people had accused him, not caring about what he'd said. Ricochet imagined that their positions had been reversed, and Jeb had been the one to tell him that everything he'd ever said and done was all part of a lie.

He winced. _Ouch._ There were times where he wished he had more control over his words. And this would be one of them.

He thought of walking upstairs and talking to Jeb, but something told him to hold off on that thought right then. For one thing, Jeb had proved that he was nothing like Droop-a-Long in terms of temperament, and he might not be one to quickly cool off. Besides, he needed some time to cool off himself, and he wasn't going to do it in the office.

Sighing, he made his way out the door, pausing once more to look up the stairs. "Hey, Jeb...I-I'm headin' out. I'll be back later," he called. He didn't even know if the man would hear him or not, but at least he had taken a chance.

He made his way out of the office, heading towards the saloon. It looked like he was in need of a carrot cocktail...or several.

* * *

 _At the county jail..._

The warden stared at the release papers doubtedly, his eyes fixed on the rather messy signature on the line. He then looked up at Zeb. "You sure you didn't forge these here papers?" he asked.

"How can I forge a signature when I don' even know how ta read?" Zeb said. "I got it straight from the mayor 'imself. It's jus' a little messy since he had loads o' work."

"I'm sure he did." The warden sighed, and then waved towards Dave and Chuck. "Alright, you two are free ta go. But if you end up in here again, no amount of release papers is gonna free ya from jail."

"We get it," Dave said. "And we're right upset about what happened with the deputy. We didn't get a chance ta apologize."

Chuck nodded. "If anythin', I hope the sheriff will forgive us," he added.

"You'd better be hopin' beyond hope that he does," the warden said as Zeb led them out. "Sheriff Ricochet's got a penchant for grudges."

"So I've heard," Zeb replied.

When they got several yards away from the jail, Dave clapped Zeb on the back. He had a triumphant smile on his face. "Ya did good, Zeb," he said. "Your reward's gonna double after ya take care of some 'unfinished business' for us."

"You mean..."

"Yeah." Dave's grin widened. "You're gonna be the one to put a bullet in the sheriff's head."

Zeb stared at him in surprise. "But I thought ya wanted me to take the boys over to Youngsville and get rid of Droop-a-Long."

"We're changin' the plan a bit," Chuck answered. "Ya see, if we go down to the office, Ricochet will probably beat the answers right outta us. Takin' 'im out beforehand throws out that possibility."

"Plus, Droop-a-Long's our enemy, not yours. We wanna handle him personally," Dave said. "Before we pack an' go to Youngsville, we'll be meetin' with you ta make sure that you did your job."

"Roger that," Zeb said. "So when can expect ta get my paycheck?"

Dave chuckled. "As soon as we become the new sheriff an' deputy of Hoop 'n Holler," he said. He sighed contentedly. "You jus' wait. Things are gonna start changin' round these parts."

* * *

 _Marcus McCloud's Base of Operations_

 _Havenport_

Newly rapped on Droop-a-Long's door. "Hey, I've got that brick-style chili ya asked for!" he shouted.

There was a weak cough, and then Droop-a-Long's voice came from the other side. "You can bring it in, Mr. Newly," he said.

Sighing, Newly walked inside. The room was much lighter due to his opening the curtains earlier that day, but he still kept them slightly closed so that no curious eyes would look inside. Sitting up in bed was Droop-a-Long, who was reclined against the bedframe. He still looked pretty rough, but not as bad as when he'd first come in yesterday. Newly had never seen so much blood in his life, and the sight of all those gashes had made him nauseous.

Setting the bowl of chili in front of Droop-a-Long, he said, "This is the third time ya called me in here for somethin' ta eat. Most people this beat up ain't all that hungry, much less up for meat."

Droop-a-Long shrugged. "It is kinda weird, but I've always been like that. I can take a lotta hits to the point where I end up like this, but later I'll be back to my ol' self," he said.

Newly shook his head, bewildered. "How do you animal-folk do it, takin' hits like that an' still get up?"

"I dunno. I asked Mr. Ricochet once an' he was jus' as stumped," Droop-a-Long said.

"I bet Ricochet's gotten hit a lot of times too, huh?"

"Yeah, but I get the worst of it," Droop-a-Long said. He paused in taking a bite of his chili. "By the way, when are y'all gonna send out that telegram to 'im?"

Newly tried not to fidget. "As soon as I can, Deputy," he said. "I'd do it myself, but Marcus gave me strict orders to stay 'round here an' wait."

"How come?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"Well, we run a business together, me an' him. We order a lot of supplies, an' most of 'em come here. It's my job to keep track of 'em," Newly explained.

"Oh, I gets it. And if ya leave, your packages might go to tha wrong house or somethin'," Droop-a-Long said.

Newly smiled. Marcus had been right about how naive this coyote was. "An' Marcus doesn't want that ta happen," he said, "an' he's got a bit of a frightful temper, so I wouldn't put it past 'im."

"Kinda reminds me of Mr. Ricochet. He's got a scary temper, too," Droop-a-Long said. He sighed. "I hope y'all do get in contact with Mr. Ricochet somehow. It'd be even better iffin' y'all had a phone."

"We do, but it's broken," Newly said. "We aims ta get it fixed soon, though, so as soon as we get it fixed, you can talk to tha sheriff."

Droop-a-Long's eyes widened. "Really?"

Newly nodded. "Sure. After all, telegraphs are gonna take a long time to get to people," he answered.

Droop-a-Long smiled. "Shucks, Newly, I feel a lot better 'bout this already," he said. He took a bite of the chili. "Hmmm...kinda spicy, an' its got a lotta beans. But I won' complain much." He took another bite of it. "After all, this is kinda how Denise likes her chili."

"Denise?" Newly said. "Who's that?"

Droop-a-Long's face colored slightly. "She's my girlfriend," he said. "Shucks...if she hasn't heard 'bout what happened yet, she will soon. Her poor heart couldn't take it."

Newly sighed. He just had to open his big mouth... "Don't worry, Deputy. Once ya call the sheriff, you can ask him to call your gal an'-"

"I would, but I think she'd wanna hear from me," Droop-a-Long interrupted. "Can ya promise me that you'll get that phone fixed soon, Mr. Newly? Or at least, tell Mr. Marcus? I can't go on thinkin' 'bout how worried they both are much longer..."

Newly sighed. He knew he shouldn't be making promises, and he knew Marcus would have his head if he found out. But the coyote looked so worried and upset...the last thing he wanted was for their guest to be anxious the entire time he was staying here.

He nodded. "Alright, Deputy. It's a promise."

* * *

 _Meanwhile, back at Hoop 'n Holler..._

"Sheriff, you sure you want another glass?" the bartender asked.

Ricochet raised his head from the table to look at him. Three empty glasses surrounded him, carrot stems buried at the bottom. The rabbit nodded faintly, and added, "Extra carrot pieces, Sam."

Sam sighed. "Comin' up, Sheriff," he said, taking the glasses away and preparing a fourth. "Geez, and I thought I could hold a number of 'em..."

Ricochet didn't say anything. He simply raised himself from the table, trying to shake off the buzz he'd gotten from that last drink. Normally, he could hold a number of them without much problem, but combining it with a lack of sleep was a nightmare. When Sam placed the fourth glass in front of him, he felt a little sick to his stomach.

Sam noticed his hesitation and offered a small smile. "I figured ya wouldn't be takin' it, but..."

"s'lright. I came ta take my mind offa things, not ta drink my sorrows away."

"But ya did anyhow," the bartender said. "It must be right tough not havin' someone ta talk to any more."

"It sure is," Ricochet said. "An' I jus' had to make the other person who wanted ta help me out angry."

"Who's that?" Sam asked.

"My new junior deputy, Jeb," Ricochet said. "He wanted ta help me out, but I...I kinda pushed him away."

Sam nodded.

"It's not that he's a bad fella or nothin'; he's a nice guy, though he chatters a lot, and he's eager ta help. Guess who that reminded me of?"

"Ah..." Sam handed off another drink to another customer. "I see."

"I guess...I guess I wasn't really ready ta take on another deputy jus' yet. My best friend, who worked with me for years, is gone, an' he's never comin' back. I couldn't protect 'im. An' this feller who acts like 'im comes in an' says he can help. An' then there's that whole case with the mayor," Ricochet continued. "The mayor says that Jeb attacked 'im, an' Jeb's swearin' he didn't do it."

"What happened?"

"I said some words, he got real angry at me, an'...well, now I'm here," Ricochet said. "A part of me feels right guilty for treatin' him like I did. He tried to cheer me up an' convince me ta keep goin' on the case, even after I blew up at him. But I still keep 'im at arm's length, even though he wants to be my friend. I reckon what happened made me wary of trustin' others, or immediately makin' 'em my friends. People have been lyin' to me or keepin' things from me lately..."

"I gets it, Sheriff. Once you've been lied to, or learn somethin', it changes everythin'. Learnin' that two fellers were harrassin' Deputy Droop-a-Long was jus' the tip of the iceberg; apparently, Droop-a-Long had more friends outside of jus' you," Sam replied. "I'm not gonna tell ya to immediately trust Jeb. Like ya said, people do keep things from others."

Ricochet nodded.

"But I reckon Jeb came 'round ta help ya at the right time, Sheriff. If it weren't for him, ya wouldn't be workin' on this case an' tryin' ta get justice for Droop-a-Long. And it helps ta have someone around to talk to, 'specially durin' times like these."

"I know that, and I admit, Jeb's been doin' his best to help out in that area, but...I-I'm wary. If I couldn't protect Droop-a-Long...how am I supposed ta protect someone else, let alone his friend?" Ricochet said.

Sam sighed. "Sheriff, ya can't protect everyone. People have gotta fight their own battles sometimes. You had ta fight yours, and he had ta fight his," he said.

"And he lost his," Ricochet said, his ears drooping down, "all 'cause I wasn't there ta back 'im up."

"It wasn't your fault, Sheriff. Ya would've been killed by those fellers, too, an' this town would've been overrun by crime," Sam said. "So ya don't have ta blame yourself for not helpin' Droop-a-Long. There was nothin' ya could've done."

Ricochet sighed. "You're probably right, Sam. But I reckon it'll be a while before I can bounce back. I still haven't really come to terms with it," he said. He pulled out some money from his wallet and gave it to Sam, but he waved it away.

"It's on the house, Sheriff," he said. "Consider it a favor from a friend."

"Keep this up, Sam, an' you're gonna go broke," Ricochet teased, putting his money back in his pocket. He got down from the stool and looked up at the bartender. "But thanks for helpin' me out."

"Glad I could make ya feel a little better, Sheriff," Sam said. "Next time-"

He was cut off when gunshots erupted outside. All commotion died as everyone turned around to see what was going on.

One of the townspeople ran inside, shock exploding all over his face. "Sheriff! Someone's shootin' up your office lookin' for you!" he yelled.

Ricochet frowned. "They wanted my attention, eh? They've got it!"He shot out of the office, barreling straight through the man and out the door. A gust of wind followed shortly after, almost dragging Sam out from behind the bar.

Sam shook his head. "Well, whoever got that great idea's gonna wish they never had it in the first place..."

* * *

Jeb remained on the second floor, deathly quiet. He had fallen asleep a little over an hour ago, and then out of nowhere, gunshots had exploded through the office. He could only imagine the state the walls were in now. Ricochet was going to be furious when he came back...if he came back.

The barrage stopped, and then someone shouted, "Sheriff! Come outta thar, unless ya wanna die like yer deputy!"

Jeb's eyes widened. He knew that voice. Clambering down the stairs, he stood a few steps from the first floor, pausing to get a good look at the shooter. "Zeb?" he called.

Zeb stood in the doorway, pointing his gun at the wall. His green eyes widened as he stared at Jeb. The gun clattered to the floor. "Jeb?!" he shouted.

"What are you doin' here?!" they said at once.

"That's what I wanna know!" Ricochet's voice came into the fray, and both men turned around to see him standing there, looking very angry. His anger melted away to reveal confusion. "Wait a minute...you look jus' like Jeb!"

"Sheriff, that's my twin brother, Zeb!" Jeb said. "I-I don' know why he came here shootin' an' all, but-"

"I reckon I know why," Ricochet said. His eyes narrowed as he looked at Zeb. "So, you're the fella that J.P. Nuggets saw when he was attacked this mornin', eh?"

Jeb stared at Zeb. "You...you attacked the mayor?" he asked.

"No! Jeb, I swear, I wasn't anywhere near the mayor's house!" Zeb said, backing away.

Jeb shook his head. "There's nobody else in this whole town that looks exactly like I do, Zeb..."

"I-I'm tellin' ya the truth, Jeb. I-I'd never lie to my own brother..."

Zeb backed into Ricochet. When he turned around, the rabbit gave him a pointed glare.

"But I bet you'd keep things from 'im, won't ya?" Ricochet asked.

"I-I-"

"You...you did this to Droop-a-Long, didn't you?" Jeb asked, trembling. "You put these here holes in the wall, like ya did jus' now, and ya killed Droop-a-Long, didn't you?"

Zeb's face had gone whiter than chalk. "I-I swear, Jeb, I-"

"Didn't you?!" Jeb interrupted. His face was redder than a strawberry, and his eyes were filled with sorrowful fury. "You killed one o' my friends and tried ta kill the sheriff!"

Zeb's hand balled into a fist as he looked at the ground. His reply was a hoarse whisper. "I...I had my orders, Jeb. I was gettin' paid to do this, too."

Jeb's eyes widened with horror. "You were paid ta kill-"

"I needed the money, an' you know that, Jeb!" Zeb snapped, glaring at his brother. "You try feedin' three youngin's and a wife with the income ya get from shinin' shoes! I was desperate!"

"Desperate enough ta kill a person?" Jeb questioned. "You're one of the nicest people I know, Zeb. Ya wouldn't do this...you wouldn't rob someone of their life for money! Think of what ya did to the sheriff! That was his _best friend_ ya killed!"

Zeb's expression faltered, and for a moment, Jeb thought he saw a flicker of sorrow in his eyes. But just as fast, that flicker was gone and the glare returned.

"Well...desperate times call for desperate measures, Jeb," he said.

Jeb started to say more, but Ricochet came behind Zeb then, his gun out of his holster and pointed at Zeb's back. The anger and disgust on his face could've been seen from a mile away.

"I've heard all I needed ta hear," Ricochet said. He then removed Zeb's gun and tossed it to Jeb. "Put that gun over on my desk, Junior Deputy. I'll handle Zeb."

Jeb nodded. "S-Sure thing, Sheriff."

"As for you," Ricochet said, glaring up at Zeb, "you're gonna sit in this here holdin' cell. Now, _march_."

Zeb quickly complied, wincing as he felt the barrel of Ricochet's gun press into his back. One wrong move, and the rabbit would surely end his life. He then looked over at Jeb, who was removing the bullets from his gun. His eyes were red with tears, and his expression was angry. He looked over at Zeb then.

Zeb sighed. "I...I'm sorry, Jeb." He knew it wouldn't help him get into Ricochet's good graces, but he wanted to show his brother that he wasn't an utter monster. He had to understand.

Jeb turned away from his brother, focusing on the revolver. Before Ricochet pushed him through the cell door, Zeb heard his brother's soft reply: "I'm sorry, too, Zeb. I'm sorry, too."

Zeb turned to answer, but Ricochet closed the doors to the cell, and then locked it with his keys. When he looked up at Zeb finally, the outlaw had to step back at the sheer intensity of his glare, which could've killed a lesser person.

"You'll get the chance ta talk to your brother later...after ya talk ta me, that is," Ricochet started.

Zeb gulped. _I'm gonna die for this..._

* * *

 _Havenport_

"Hey, Newly, open the door!" Marcus shouted. He adjusted his arms so he could hold the crate easier. "This is a heavy one!"

A series of hurried footsteps came a few seconds later. Newly opened the door, and Marcus dumped the crate into his arms. Being completely unprepared for that, he and the package went tumbling to the floor. There was a loud crash, and Marcus thought he heard the sounds of shattering glass.

"Oh, crap..." Newly groaned.

"NEWLY!" Marcus yelled. He stormed inside to face his partner, who was lying on the floor and covered in pieces of china plates. "How many times have I warned you to be careful?"

Newly sat up and glared at him. "So sorry that I didn't get a warnin' ahead of time!"

"And 'this is a heavy one' ain't enough of a warnin'? Another mistake like that, an' the boss is gonna have both of our heads!" Marcus said.

"What's the boss' deal with this fancy china, anyway?" Newly picked up a shard and examined it, frowning at the blue designs etched on the bottom of the plate.

"It's come from a whole 'nother country, ya idiot! And ya know how rich people are 'bout foreign things! They insist it's the best!"

The door behind Newly creaked open, but neither of them were paying attention.

"Is that why the boss absolutely insisted that we get it the last time we were on the phone?"

"Yes, an' he insisted that we keep it in perfect condition. Do ya know how long it took me ta get this off the train? I almost got caught sneakin' off with it! This is supposed ta go to the mayor's!" Marcus said. He groaned. "Now I've gotta wait 'til another shipment comes in an' steal that!"

"You know how long it takes for somethin' like that ta show up?" Newly asked.

"Yes," Marcus snapped, "an' we might be dead men, thanks to you screwin' things up, Newly!"

"...you _stole_ that?"

Both Newly and Marcus froze. They turned around to face Droop-a-Long, who was halfway out of his room, wearing a blanket around his shoulders. His eyes were wide with shock, and his mouth dropped open.

"Oh, great," Marcus groaned. "Jus' when I thought my day couldn't get any worse..."

Newly looked at him, and then at Droop-a-Long, who looked at him with that same shocked expression. Newly sat up, removing some of the china pieces that covered his shirt, and stood up. He made his way over to a chair near the stove, pulled it out, and turned towards Droop-a-Long.

"M-Mr. Newly...I don't understand what's goin' on here," Droop-a-Long said. "I-I was jus' lookin' ta see iffin' ya had an icebox so I could eat somethin'..."

"Well, ya might as well sit down, Deputy," Newly said. "We need ta talk."

Marcus' head snapped upwards. _"Newly..."_ His tone was dangerous.

"Marcus, he was bound ta find out anyways," Newly said tiredly. He turned towards Droop-a-Long, who was still staring at him. "Feel free ta sit in this chair, Deputy. You're gonna be here a while..."

* * *

 _Outside of Hoop 'n Holler..._

"Where is Zeb?" Chuck growled, scanning the distance. He'd been staring at the county line for over twenty minutes, and there was still no sign of the man. He turned towards Dave, who was getting the horses ready for their journey to Youngsville. "He should've been here by now with news!"

"Ya know Ricochet. He ain't gonna go down without a fight," Dave said. After loading another pack of food on his horse, he turned to Chuck. "Give 'im a few more minutes, Chuck. He'll be here."

Chuck sighed as he scanned the county line again. "Somehow, I have a feelin' you're wrong..."

 **To be continued...**

* * *

 ** _The next chapter will be the finale for this arc, I swear!  
_**

 ** _A lot of stuff happened in this chapter, and it was one rollercoaster ride after another. From Ricochet's grief, to Droop-a-Long's desperation, to Jeb's earnest attempts to become a good deputy, there certainly was a lot of drama. The final part has much more action; you can consider this as a warm-up to that chapter, as it sets the grounds for the eventual showdown between Dave, Chuck and Ricochet._**

 ** _Out of all the characters in this story arc, I really liked writing Ricochet the most. It was interesting to see different sides of him, namely his sorrow and his guilt. I think a part of me kept this going to make him suffer even more...why writers come up with new ways to torture their favorite characters, I'll never know. Anyway, it was interesting to write about his fears. "It's Alright, Mr. Ricochet" established that his greatest fears are losing those he cares about and failing to do his duty. Here, he believes that he lost Droop-a-Long for good (something that nearly happened before), and that the reason that he's gone is because he didn't do his job as sheriff well enough, that he failed to protect Droop-a-Long from people like Dave and Chuck. Part of the reason for his blowup at Jeb was because of this guilt, not to mention that Jeb reminds him too much of Droop-a-Long personality-wise, something that he really doesn't want. He's also suspicious of how Jeb suddenly appeared, hence why he accused him in this chapter. Later, he does get along with Jeb a bit better, but it takes time._**

 ** _Jeb was also an interesting character to write. He's the guy from Part 2 who stuck up for Droop-a-Long at Town Hall and, as of late, is the only person who's willing to help Droop-a-Long. His general profile is already up on my profile, since I had his character in mind while I was writing chapter 3. As for Zeb, his character was also pretty interesting to write; while he didn't want to kill Droop-a-Long, it's clear that he did it because he's desperate for money. The two of them being twin brothers didn't really come to me until I wrote out this chapter-originally, I was leaning towards having Jeb betray Ricochet, but as you can see, that didn't happen. Both of them will get some time in the final part, which is pretty much almost done, but my mind keeps coming up with twenty more scenes no matter how hard I try._**

 ** _Droop-a-Long will also get some more time to shine in the final part. In my opinion, I think that Marcus and Newly, the two train robbers who're taking care of him, were more fun for me to write than Droop-a-Long. I tried to put in a bit more lighthearted fare to lessen all the drama with their scenes, but I'll let you be the judge of that._**

 ** _Next chapter will be the final part of this arc! Constructive criticism is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	18. Short 18: Protector---Conclusion

**A/N:** Alright, chapter 18 of _Blazin' Trails_ is here! Thanks a lot for the feedback, and I'm glad you like the arc thus far. Now, as I promised last time, this is the REAL final part of this arc.

Last time, Ricochet took on a new deputy to help out on the case, and things got off to an uneasy start. That turned out to be nothing, though, compared to what happened after. And that turns out to be just the beginning...

 **Disclaimer:** This arc is the reason I don't own either Ricochet or Droop-a-Long.

* * *

 **Story 18: Protector**

 **The Final Part**

Forty minutes.

Ricochet had been inside the cell room interrogating Zeb Forrest for over forty minutes. Jeb knew that this was nothing more than standard procedure, but it did nothing to ease his anxiety. Conflicting emotions filled his mind, and the ones that kept coming up was hurt and betrayal.

Of course, when the shock had worn off, he'd been angry, angrier than he'd been with Ricochet earlier that afternoon. All the while Ricochet interrogated his brother, Jeb had mentally cursed his brother, using words that he wouldn't be caught dead saying to anyone else. His brother, Zeb, had not only killed Droop-a-Long and drove Ricochet to this state, but he'd also tried to bring him into this mess by framing him. His dark side had wanted to go in there and beat Zeb senseless for what he'd done. And he believed that he was justified in this. His brother had done a terrible thing, all in the name of money, and he obviously didn't give a crap about how his actions had affected him, the whole town, and Ricochet most of all.

But he knew that wouldn't sit well with Ricochet. If he did that, the sheriff would surely fire him. And no matter how justified he thought he was, Jeb knew he'd never look at himself in the mirror again. His older brother was his role model, the person he looked up to when he was a kid. Zeb was the good one, the one who'd never do anything wrong. Out of the two, Jeb was more likely to be the screw up. He was supposed to be in here, not Zeb. Even his own family admitted it.

Jeb sighed and buried his head in his hands. He'd already dealt with his fair share of betrayal before.

And now, he was dealing with it again.

The door to the cells creaked open, and Ricochet made his way out. With a heavy sigh, he closed the doors and then made his way over to the desk. Rather than sitting in the chair, he sat on the floor, leaning against the desk. He looked exhausted and irritated.

"So, uh...Zeb's not sayin' nothin', huh?" Jeb asked tentatively.

"Oh, he talked," Ricochet answered. "He tried ta keep things from me, but then I told him how long he was gonna stay in prison, and that's if he's lucky. That got 'im ta talk."

"You don't seem too happy about it, though," Jeb noted.

Ricochet nodded. "It's jus'...after he told me what he'd done to Droop-a-Long, an' what Dave 'n Chuck ordered him ta do to me...I felt drained," he said. "He told me that Droop-a-Long was alive when they threw 'im in a sack an' on that train, but..." He paused, and Jeb noticed he was starting to shake. "H-He's long gone by now..."

Jeb got out of his chair and sat on the floor next to him. His expression was sympathetic. "That's gotta be rough, Sheriff..."

"It ain't nearly as rough as discoverin' your brother did it," Ricochet said.

"Yeah..." Jeb looked down at the ground, sorrow crossing his features. "I don' get it...why did he do it?"

"He said he did it for money to feed his family," Ricochet answered. "Frankly, I think it's an excuse, but..."

"That actually ain't a lie, Sheriff. Zeb got married six years ago an' he moved out to another town. I knew that he'd lost his job a year ago, but he never mentioned nothin' to me about his troubles," Jeb said. "I thought everythin' was fine for him an' his family, the way he was makin' it sound." Jeb smiled bitterly. "Guess that shows what I know."

"You'd be surprised with what ya learn about people, Jeb. There's more to them than jus' appearances, or words."

"Or guessin'," Jeb added.

"Guessin'?"

"Yeah, ya know, when your family guesses how you're gonna be when ya get older," Jeb said.

Ricochet's eyes widened. "Ah..."

"Yeah. Outta the two of us, people figured I'd be the screw-up, the one who'd end up bein' on the wrong side of the law. Zeb was the good one, the nice one...me on the other hand..." Jeb let out a derisive laugh. "I'm the annoyin' one, the one who had ta put his two cents in everythin'. My own dad told me I was a screw up."

"You're not the only one," Ricochet replied. When Jeb looked at him with confusion, Ricochet continued with, "I was kinda like you when I was younger. The annoyin' little brother who was not only a hothead, but had a pretty big mouth. And I still am...an' sometimes, I ain't too proud of it. I hurt others' feelin's without realizin' it 'til someone tells me. An' that's what I did today."

Jeb's eyes widened. "Sheriff, ya don't-"

"No, Jeb, I do have to," Ricochet interrupted. He looked up at Jeb, his expression sad. "Those were fightin' words I said to ya earlier. I was already angry when I came back from J.P.'s office, an' I took most of it out on you. I should've sat back an' examined the facts rather than accuse ya. Can ya forgive me, Jeb?"

Jeb gave him a smile and then patted him on the shoulder. "Of course, Sheriff," Jeb replied. "Nobody's perfect." He sighed. "I'm sorry, too. I lost my cool earlier, an' I reckon I hurt your feelin's, too."

"Actually, ya kinda left me standin' in shock," Ricochet admitted. "Nobody had ever yelled at me like ya did earlier."

"Even so...I'm sorry, Sheriff. I mean, like I said earlier, I consider ya to be a hero," Jeb said. "I never imagined that I'd be yellin' at Ricochet Rabbit...an' live to apologize to 'im."

"Hey, I ain't that feared, Jeb. An' I ain't that bad when it comes to my temper, either."

Jeb smirked. "It's jus' a little joke, Sheriff. You'd be surprised to hear the legends about ya back home," he said. "Although I'm startin' ta see how some of 'em are true..."

"Now, Jeb..."

Jeb chuckled a bit. "I'm just joshin' with ya, Sheriff." He sighed. "I don' know how I can, 'specially in light of what's happened..."

"After what's happened, we could use somethin' ta take our mind offa things," Ricochet replied. "If ya feel up to it, you can go in an' visit your brother for a little bit."

"You'd let me do that?" Jeb asked.

Ricochet nodded. "Sure. Jus' don't get too riled up in thar. Last thing I need is a fight."

Jeb smiled a little. "Thanks, Sheriff," he said.

"No problem, Jeb. I'm jus' glad that the real person behind this was caught," Ricochet answered.

"That reminds me...ain't we gonna go after Dave 'n Chuck?"

"That we are, Jeb. Jus' needed ta pull my head together," Ricochet said. He got up from the floor, adjusted his hat and turned to face Jeb. "Come on, Jeb. We're gonna find those two an' put a stop ta this."

Jeb nodded and stood to his feet. "Hopefully, I'll be able ta keep up with ya when ya do find them."

* * *

Chuck paced about restlessly, still looking at the county line. "I don' see no sign of Zeb yet, Dave. We need ta get out of here," he said.

Dave lowered his canteen and groaned. "Alright, but only 'cause you can't keep still," he said. "Saddle up, we're headin' ta Youngsville."

Chuck mounted his horse, and right before he could set off, he happened to see three people standing at the town entrance. The first was a man who looked a lot like Zeb, but he wore green and white instead of blue, and he had a silver star on his chest. The second was a redheaded man who was dressed in pink and red, and was pointing in their direction.

And next to him was Ricochet Rabbit, who turned to glare at them.

Dave yelled, "Chuck, get goin'! The sheriff saw us!"

"I told ya we should've left!" Chuck shot back. With a sharp shake of the horse's reins, he galloped away, and Dave soon followed. The two raced across the desert, sweat beading on their brows.

"Ya think Zeb told the sheriff anythin'?" Chuck shouted.

"I'm pretty sure he did, since that dumb sheriff is still alive," Dave said. "But don't worry, the rest of our boys'll handle him an' that Zeb-lookalike." He smirked. "They oughta keep 'im busy."

"Oh, I sure hope so, Dave," Chuck said.

No sooner had he said that than a loud shout cut through the drumming of horses' hooves hitting the ground. "Stop right thar! Y'all two ain't gettin' away from me this time!"

Dave and Chuck simultaneously gasped. "Oh, _crap_ ," Dave breathed out.

Rapidly gaining on them on foot, Ricochet glared up at Dave. "I heard that, an' I've got a big ol' bar o' soap for ya with your name on it!" he replied.

Chuck snarled, and he pulled out his gun. "Take this, you righteous rabbit!" He opened fire, aiming at Ricochet's foot. The bullet hit the ground in front of Ricochet, and he stumbled forwards, falling flat on his face. He got up just as a sneering Dave turned and opened fire next, followed by Chuck.

Rather than continue to give chase, Ricochet turned around and ran in the opposite direction, Dave's bullets giving chase. Dave laughed as he emptied his gun, and soon dozens of bullets were chasing after Ricochet, who was running back to town. In the distance they heard horrified screaming from the townspeople.

"Ha! That oughta teach that coward!" Dave said.

"Ya really think so, Dave?" Chuck asked.

"O' course I'm sure! Those are homin' bullets I stole from the sheriff's office! Even he can't outrun those!" Dave said. He turned back around to face the front. "Full speed ahead, Chuck! Nothin's keepin' us from gettin' ta Youngsville now!"

They spurred their horses on, galloping with blinding speed and laughing all the way.

* * *

Jeb ran outside of the office as soon as he heard the screaming. His gun was out of his holster and in his hand. "What in tarnation is goin' on?!" he shouted.

A few seconds later, he got his answer. Ricochet raced through town, and trailing behind him like small comets were dozens of bullets. People were diving for cover as some of the bullets slammed into the buildings and other random objects.

"HELP!" Ricochet screamed. "These things are catchin' up ta me!"

Jeb ran towards the fleeing sheriff, trying to take aim as he ran. "Pick on someone yer own size, ya stupid bullets!" he shouted, and started shooting.

Some of his bullets hit some of the targets, knocking the bullets out of the sky and sending them crashing harmlessly into the ground. Most of them completely missed and came close to hitting several people.

"Hey! Watch what you're doin' with that thing!" someone shouted from the saloon.

"Sorry, folks!" Jeb yelled. "I'm doin' as best as I can!"

"That ain't good enough, kid!" A large man with a bushy beard stepped out, carrying a rifle. "I've got this!" He took aim and fired, a loud report echoing through the town.

His shot was no better than Jeb's. The bullet almost hit Ricochet in the head, and his shot only sent one of the bullets ricocheting into a store.

Ricochet turned and glared at the man. "Are ya tryin' ta get me killed?!" he shouted.

"S-Sorry, Sheriff!"

Jeb skidded to a stop as Ricochet ran for the exit, hanging over and catching his breath. "H-He's jus' too fast," he said. "A-An' that's when he's not outrunnin' bullets..."

He stopped in his tracks at that. He ran over to one of the buildings where the bullets had crashed, and picked one up. It was gold, and when he took a look at the primer, he encountered a name engraved on the bottom. He frowned.

"O' course those bullets would be givin' Sheriff Ricochet trouble. These are made by the same people who make _his_ bullets!" Jeb ran over to his horse, a white and black stallion with a weathered saddle on its back. Climbing on, he shouted to one of the people, "You! Get in the office an' keep an eye on Zeb!"

The man in question, a red-haired man dressed in expensive clothing, stared at him in shock. "E-Excuse me?" he repeated.

Jeb didn't stop to clarify what he'd said. With a sharp shake of the horse's reins, he took off towards the edge of town, praying that he'd catch up to Ricochet in time.

* * *

Ricochet growled out a curse as he headed for the caves. He knew the type of bullets Dave had shot all too well-they were known as "Warheads" for a reason. He used them sparingly, as he knew just how damaging those things were when they connected with someone. And with this many, it didn't matter if he ran all the way to the other side of the States; they would not stop until he made one wrong move.

"If this doesn't shake 'em, nothin' will!" he snarled. "Luckily for me, I can keep this up for as long as I need to."

Seeing as there were a few cacti around, Ricochet increased his speed, heading directly for the cactus. Rather than crashing right into it, he bounced off of it, then bounced off of another one that was right next to it. The bullets that followed crashed straight into the cactus and became stuck in the plant's prickly flesh.

Ricochet smirked. "Pretty smart move thar, Dave...but Ricochet Rabbit's smarter!" he said, heading for another row of cacti. Time of after time, he bounced off of the cactus surrounding him as fast as he could, taking care to not stick to one for too long. And each of the bullets became stuck in the plant, save for two that stubbornly refused to give up.

Ricochet grimaced as he ran for the mine. _Even if I did run in here, I won't be able ta see a thing, and that could be disastrous when I'm running from Warhead bullets! I'm good as dead if I go in!_

He was getting closer to the mine's entrance when he heard gunshots behind him. On instinct, he dove for the ground, sand making its way into his mouth. It was then that he realized his error, and he braced himself for the inevitable.

Surprisingly, the bullets never came. He cracked open his eyes, and his eyes widened in shock as he stared at the two Warhead bullets, both of them embedded in the ground. Spitting out the dirt in his throat, he made his way over to the bullets and picked it up. "This one's got a hole torn clean through its shell," he mused. "But...who in the-"

"Sheriff!"

Ricochet turned towards Jeb, who yanked his horse to a stop. "Took ya long enough ta get here, Jeb," he remarked.

"Well, I ain't the fastest bein' in the West like you are, Sheriff," Jeb replied, getting down from his horse and coming over to them. "I pretty much ran the horse ta get out here. Those homin' bullets ain't no joke."

"I know. I've used 'em a few times myself. An' trust me, it's not a pretty sight when they hit," Ricochet replied. "Even so...ya came in jus' in time. I was about ta make a suicide move by runnin' into this abandoned mine for cover. I might've died, too." He sent a small smile up at Jeb. "Thanks."

Jeb beamed. "You're welcome, Sheriff. Glad to help," he said. "Now that the Warheads are taken care of, I reckon you're gonna go after Dave an' Chuck."

"That I am, Jeb. But first, help me get these Warhead bullets."

"Right, Sheriff," Jeb said, stepping down. "But why do ya need them?"

Ricochet's mouth turned upwards into a sneaky smirk. "I've got a special surprise for both of 'em. I'll tell ya what it is after ya help me get them."

"Okay. Where are they?"

"Stuck in the cactuses back thar."

Jeb sighed. "Alrighty..."

* * *

 _A little while later..._

"I don't see any trace of that sheriff, Dave!" Chuck shouted as they raced towards a small town.

Dave smirked. "Guess he's finished for good! We've got nothin' ta worry about now!" He laughed as he pulled out his gun, shooting into the air. People who were walking about in the street leaped to the side to avoid getting trampled to death by the horses. Dave and Chuck only yipped with joy at this, shooting their guns into the air as they stampeded through town.

"Ya think we need ta stop or anythin', Dave?" Chuck asked.

"Naw. 'sides, that'd have the sheriff of this town after us," Dave said. "No distractions, Chuck. We're headin' straight ta Youngsville!"

They were nearing the town exit when they heard gunshots behind them. Chuck looked worried, but Dave scoffed as several bullets crashed into the walls of the buildings beside them. "These folks can't shoot!" he snarled.

"An' they don' know who they're messin' with!" Chuck replied. He turned to face the shooters, only to get a nasty shock.

"Reckon these belong to ya!" With a small smirk, Ricochet dove for the ground, the bullets that Dave had fired racing harmlessly past him.

Dave jumped upon hearing Ricochet's voice. "What the-"

"Dave, _jump_!" Chuck yelled.

There was no time to argue. With a grunt, Dave leaped to the right, crashing into the front porch of a store, and Chuck dove to the left, his head colliding with the dirt.

Any second later and both of them would've been dead. A series of loud thuds filled their ears, followed by the screams of the horses and the townspeople. Dave picked himself up from the ground, wiping the blood from his face, and dove into the store. The owner of the store, a bespectacled old man, ran for the back exit as soon as he saw Dave.

Dave crouched behind a large barrel of sugar, looking out the window for any sign of Ricochet. The rabbit had his hand on his gun, looking about the street. He looked around the town square, which was now scattered with debris, sand, and a few bodies, including those of their horses. Ricochet turned to face Chuck, who was starting to pull himself to his feet, and walked over to him, his gun out of the holster.

Dave smashed open the window with his elbow, an action that made Ricochet whirl around. Dave unloaded the gun, but Ricochet dove for cover behind an abandoned wagon, while Chuck scrambled for the other side. More screaming filled their ears moments later.

This didn't stop Dave. He kept firing at the wagon, blowing many holes in it. He paused to reload, only for Ricochet to peer out moments later. Dave barely had time to duck to the ground before Ricochet opened fire, and dozens of bullets blew through the walls.

Dave loaded his gun again, and after pausing to avoid another barrage, he got up and returned fire. Ricochet ducked, but one bullet hit the tip of his ear. Ricochet yelped in pain, his hand grasping his injured ear, and he laughed. "He thinks that's bad? He ain't seen nothin' yet!" he said, using a variation of Ricochet's words. He continued to open fire on the wagon, but the sheriff had ducked for cover, probably to tend to his wounds.

The town square was hazy with smoke, but Dave could make out Chuck taking aim at the sheriff. Right before he could tell Chuck to start shooting, Chuck froze, then jumped to his feet and started running, his gun falling to the ground. Not long after, a loud gunshot filled his ears.

"Chuck, you _idiot_!" Dave roared. He didn't know if he was seeing things, but he could've sworn that the bullet that was chasing Chuck had opened up to reveal a hammer. Chuck didn't even get to the exit; one tap to the head, and he was on the ground, knocked out cold.

"Those stupid bullets!" Dave snarled. "What does it take for this sheriff to die?"

His question was answered when a bullet with a black lasso shot through the window and neatly wrapped around his gun hand. He had no time to react before he was yanked off of the ground, crashed through the glass pane and tumbled to the ground, his face slamming into the dirt. He spit out the dirt and blood that came up in his mouth, biting back the urge to swear as he looked up at his other mortal enemy.

Ricochet stood in front of him, his fur tussled and dirty, and blood trickling down the side of his face and his left ear; there was a bullet wound at the top that was currently leaking blood. In his right hand was his gun, and at the end of the barrel was a long black rope. His expression was dangerous as he looked down at Dave.

"If ya really wanna know," Ricochet answered, "it takes a lot ta get rid o' me."

"You an' your _stupid_ trick bullets," Dave spat.

"Funny ya say that, since ya somehow got yer hands on them." His glare hardened. "That was right clever of ya to send those Warheards after me, but unfortunately for you, I know a thin' or two about tinkerin' with bullets."

Dave snarled. "You messed 'em up an' made 'em follow me, instead!"

"Mostly. But I lead 'em to ya instead of lettin' 'em do the work," Ricochet said. "'sides, I told ya earlier that you weren't gettin' away from me this time, Dave."

Dave rolled his eyes, and it was then that the drum of horse's hooves filled the air. He and Ricochet turned around to see a young man roll into town on a horse. Dave's eyes widened when he saw his face. " _Zeb_?! You were workin' with the sheriff?!" he yelled.

The man pulled up to a stop next to Ricochet, and he looked down at Dave in confusion. "I ain't Zeb. I'm Jeb, the junior deputy," he said. "Zeb's my twin."

Dave's eyes widened. _"What?!"_

"Shockin', I know," Ricochet said. He looked up at Jeb, his angry expression relaxing into a more sheepish one. "Sorry I left ya behind earlier, Jeb."

"It's alright, Sheriff. The horse was spent from chasin' after ya earlier," Jeb replied, getting down from his horse and coming over to them. His eyes widened when he got a good look at Ricochet. "You're bleedin', Sheriff!"

"It's nothin' new for me, Jeb. I've been through worse," Ricochet said. "Now, help me get these two cuffed 'n locked away."

Jeb nodded. "Right away, Sheriff. I'll get Chuck," he said, running over to the unconscious outlaw.

Dave groaned as Ricochet took his guns and got his arms behind his back so he could cuff him. _Stupid sheriff's gonna get his someday..._

* * *

 _An hour later..._

Red Eye had just entered the saloon, which was full of people sitting at the bar, clamoring for drinks. "Alright, folks. No need ta get restless 'cause Same left," he said. He put on his apron, and went behind the counter, facing the row of men. "Now, what's your preference, fellers?"

Before anyone could give their orders, someone burst in through the doors of the saloon. "Y'all won't believe this, but Sheriff Ricochet an' the new deputy just captured Dave an' Chuck!" he yelled. "They're comin' into town now!"

In a matter of seconds, the saloon cleared out. Red Eye sighed. "Reckon I oughta see what's goin' on, too."

The crowd was blocking the door, so he had to settle for looking out the window to see what was going on. On foot were Ricochet and Jeb, the former with a bandage on his left ear, and the latter leading in a white and black spotted horse. On the back of the horse were Dave and Chuck, both of whom were dirty, battered and bruised. Dave's look was sour, while Chuck looked scared.

He had every reason to be scared. Red Eye knew the sheriff just as well as everyone else in town, and Ricochet wouldn't let something like this slide, especially if it involved a close friend of his.

Red Eye shook his head as Ricochet and Jeb led Dave and Chuck off the horse and put them inside. "Lord have mercy on their souls..."

* * *

"You can't do this to us! We have lawyers!" Dave yelled as Jeb lead them inside.

Jeb rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and even your lawyers won't defend ya for this," he said. "None o' your fancy tricks is gonna keep ya outta here."

Behind him, Chuck spat on the ground. "What do you know 'bout us, Deputy?" he snarled. "Oh, that's right? Can't call ya that, can ya? You're the _junior_ deputy. 'sides, why would the sheriff appoint _you_ as his new deputy when he can't get over the fact that the old one's gone?"

Jeb glared at Chuck. "Shut yer mouth," he snapped. He looked at Ricochet, who was leading in Chuck. His expression was filled with barely-contained anger.

It had been Ricochet's idea for Jeb to lead in Dave; he'd told Jeb that if he'd had to listen to him making threats, Dave would've been dead before he even made it to the office. Now Jeb was starting to see why Ricochet had done what he did. These two would make even the nicest person want to tear him apart.

Dave snickered. "Chuck's jus' statin' the truth. Ta be honest, there wasn't nothin' special 'bout that dumb deputy. I mean, why was Ricochet so protective of 'im?" he continued.

"You're treadin' on fire, Dave," Ricochet snapped. "I'd best keep quiet if I was you."

But Dave didn't. "Maybe I could ask the deputy himself...providin' that he might still be alive."

Jeb had been about to put Dave in the cell when Ricochet asked softly, "Are ya sayin' there's a chance he is still alive?"

Dave laughed as Jeb started to undo his cuffs. "Wow, you are _dense_ , Sheriff. Don't you remember a thing Zeb told ya? They said he was alive when they threw 'im on the train. O'course, the deputy might be dead by now, so that's why I said he _might_ be alive," he said.

Jeb groaned. "Sheriff Ricochet doesn't have time for this," he said, and made to close the cell. "You do your job an' be quiet."

"Oh, well. I'm tryin' ta help ya feel a little better, Sheriff," Dave said with a mocking smile in Ricochet's direction.

Jeb was about to lock the door when something crashed through it. As he still had his hand on the bar, he went flying with the door, slamming against the wall with incredible force. He groaned in pain, rubbing the back of his head as he turned to see the source of the disturbance. His eyes widened in shock when he got a good look at the scene in front of him.

Ricochet was standing on Dave's lap, and he had Dave up against the wall, his hands closed tightly around the other man's throat. Dave's smile was gone, replaced with fear as he stared at the sheriff, who had his head lowered, his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat.

"You think this is _funny_ , don't ya, Dave?" Ricochet asked softly. "You think that this is a game, tauntin' me ta see how far ya can go 'til ya make me snap." He raised his head to look at Dave, and the fury in those eyes could've killed a legion. "Well, now you know jus' how far you've gone. An' ta be honest, I'm right tired of ya testin' me. I'm right tired of _you_."

Dave couldn't answer even if he wanted to. Ricochet was smaller than him, but his grip was like an anaconda's. He attempted to pull his hands off of his throat, but to no avail. If anything, it made Ricochet's grip tighten even more. Strangling noises came from his throat as he tried to breathe, his face turning bright red.

"Sheriff, let 'im go," Jeb pleaded fearfully.

"Why should I?" Ricochet spat. His gaze was still locked on Dave's. "I've had it up ta _here_ with his antics."

"Sheriff, if ya kill 'im, you'll go ta jail for murder," Jeb continued. He was shaking with fear; he'd never seen the sheriff get this angry, ever. "You'll go ta jail again, an' you might be killed for it. Ya need ta calm down-"

"Calm _down_?!" Ricochet yelled. He turned towards Jeb with a furious glare, one that made him step back. "How can I calm down when the man who harassed an' murdered my best friend is messin' with my head?!" He turned back to Dave, who stared at him fearfully. "I'm-a squeeze the life outta you, Dave, for what you did. You're gonna regret _ever_ messin' with Droop-a-Long!"

"Ricochet, _stop_!" Jeb yelled back. "Think of what you're doing here! Killin' Dave ain't gonna make things better!"

"You might think that, but I sure don't! The world would be better off without people like 'im!" Ricochet snapped.

Jeb balled his hands into fists. He didn't want to do this, but he had to stop the sheriff. "Ricochet...do you think that Droop-a-Long would want this?" Jeb asked. "Do ya think that Droop-a-Long would want ya to kill Dave 'cause of what he an' Chuck did to 'im?"

Ricochet turned towards him, his glare lessening. His grip didn't lessen on Dave's throat, however.

Swallowing, Jeb continued with, "Ricochet, Droop-a-Long wouldn't want ya to kill others 'cause of what happened to 'im. He'd want ya to get justice for 'im, but he'd never want ya ta kill in order ta get justice. Killin' people yourself, no matter how bad they are, ain't justice. That's evil."

Ricochet looked at him, and then at Dave, who was starting to turn blue. After a long, fearful second, Ricochet released Dave, who collapsed into a coughing, sputtering mess. Jeb ran over to Ricochet, who looked both angry and ashamed.

"Ricochet...are you alright?" he asked.

Rather than answer him, Ricochet got down from Dave's lap, which he'd been standing on in order to shove him against the wall, and sat on the floor. He buried his head in his knees.

Jeb sighed. "I'll come back in a bit." He walked out of Dave's cell to check on Chuck. The larger man was at the bars, staring at the scene with wide eyes. His face had gone ghastly pale.

"So...now do ya see why you fellers are lucky to still be alive?" Jeb asked.

Chuck nodded rapidly. "I-I'll tell ya whatever you want...j-jus' don't kill me..."

Jeb looked over at Ricochet, who still sat on the floor. He sighed. "Don't worry, I'll ask the questions here," he said. "But I hope you two won't cause anymore trouble tonight."

"I think I've learned my lesson," Chuck said.

Jeb nodded and then went back into Dave's cell. "Dave, I'll get ya some water so ya won't choke anymore."

"I..." Dave coughed again, before looking up at Jeb with a small glare. "I'm surprised you're even offerin' me that much."

"Well, when ya almost get strangled, it leaves your throat right parched," Jeb said. He then turned to the sheriff. "I'll take things from here, Sheriff Ricochet. You go on 'n get some rest."

This got Ricochet to raise his head at last. He looked up at Jeb with tired, half-lidded eyes. "Jeb, ya don't have to," he said, his voice somewhat hoarse.

Jeb shook his head. "I want to, Sheriff," he said. "I'll even make some coffee for ya, jus' the way you like it, too. But I've gotta get some sugar first." He extended his hand to Ricochet. "I'll help ya up."

Ricochet sighed, but he didn't protest as he took Jeb's hand and let him pull him to his feet. After he made his way out of the cell, Jeb closed it and locked the door. "Now, not a peep outta ya until I come back," he said. "Got it?"

Dave grumbled a response, while Chuck said nothing. Deciding that he'd have to take those as answers for now, Jeb walked out the cell doors. A few seconds later, Ricochet followed him.

After closing the doors to the jail room, Jeb sighed, and then turned to Ricochet. The sheriff had his back to him, his ears lowered and head hung low. His hand were balled into fists. The tension in the room could've been cut with a butterknife.

"I reckon I oughta go an'...get that coffee ready for ya, Sheriff," Jeb said hurriedly, making his way to the kitchen.

"Jeb."

Jeb stopped short, and turned to face the sheriff, who'd made his way over to his chair. "Yes...?"

Ricochet looked up at him, his expression remorseful. "I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. Even if it was 'round Dave, I shouldn't have lost my temper," he said. "I would've killed 'im if weren't for you."

"Sheriff, it's nothin' big-"

"Nothin' big? I would be hanged first thin' in the mornin' if I had gone through with it," Ricochet said. "I shouldn't have let things go this far in terms of my emotions. I never think about revenge, but he was mockin' Droop-a-Long an' toyin' with my mind..."

"I'm not blamin' ya for bein' mad. But I jus' didn't want ya to kill Dave over that. You can be angry at 'im, but don't hurt nobody. I'd hate to see ya locked up behind bars again, or worse."

"Ya really have faith in me, don't you?"

"I do, Sheriff. It's hard to find someone who doesn't," Jeb said. "If I didn't believe in ya, I wouldn't have come to ya. I probably would've been helpin' Zeb out in tryin' ta kill ya...or worse."

Ricochet sighed. "I bet you can see why Droop-a-Long was scared of me sometimes, huh?" he said.

"Yeah, I can't blame 'im. That was pretty scary back there. But...I can also see why you got angry," Jeb replied. "I would've tried ta kill 'im, too."

"Even so...I-I nearly killed 'im with my bare hands," Ricochet said. He shuddered at that thought. "I was _this_ close ta doin' it, too." He used his two fingers for emphasis. "If I'd gone through with it...I never would've looked at myself in the mornin' again, much less have this here badge on my chest."

"Sheriff..."

Ricochet looked down at his hands. "And what ya said earlier, 'bout Droop-a-Long...you were right. Droop-a-Long wouldn't have wanted me ta kill someone in revenge. He'd be right angry with me if I did, mostly 'cause I'd die, too." He smiled bitterly. "Yeah, that sounds like Droop. He was always puttin' others before himself. H-He was doin' that before he..." At this, he broke off and grew quiet.

"Look, Sheriff...there may be a chance that he's alive, like Dave said," Jeb replied, noticing how Ricochet looked close to tears.

Ricochet looked up at him, trying to blink away the tears in his eyes. "A-Are ya sayin' that you actually believe 'im? 'Cause all evidence proves otherwise, Jeb," he said.

"I don't know for sure, Sheriff. Like they said, he could be dead, but you animal folks are tougher than most humans," Jeb admitted. "You can survive about anythin'. If ya think about it, Dave wasn't lyin' in sayin' that he _could_ still be alive. The only thing is..."

"We don't know where he is," Ricochet said, his face forming a contemplative frown. "Zeb told me that they tossed Droop-a-Long in a sack an' sent 'im off ta a town called Youngsville."

"Youngsville? That's a day's journey from Hoop 'n Holler," Jeb replied. "I reckon that's where Dave an' Chuck were headin', too, when you caught up to 'em. Question is...why were they goin' all the way out there for?"

Ricochet sat for a long moment, thinking. "That's a question we'll have ta ask Dave 'n Chuck," he said.

"Are ya sure you wanna ask them, Sheriff?" Jeb asked. "They're kinda scared of ya."

"I need answers, Jeb, an' I won't get 'em if I don't ask," Ricochet said. He stood up from his chair, only for his head to start throbbing. With a small groan, he eased back into his chair. "Ooh...on second thought..."

Jeb made his way over to him then. "Sheriff, are ya alright?" he asked.

"R-Reckon goin' on only a half-hour of sleep wasn't good for me after all," Ricochet muttered, rubbing his head. "Geez, I've got a horrible headache now, an' I feel right exhausted, too."

"Alright, Sheriff, you're gonna get yourself some sleep," Jeb said. "The last thing we need is for ya to shut down durin' this case."

"But, Jeb-" Ricochet started.

"No buts. You need your rest. I'll interrogate those three while you get some sleep," Jeb replied. "I'll keep an eye on things and make sure no one bothers ya."

Ricochet sighed, but he then considered his options. He could continue on like this and later pass out from exhaustion, or he could take his new deputy's advice and get some much needed rest...or at least try to.

"For a fella who was the annoyin' siblin', you give some pretty sound advice thar, Jeb," Ricochet said. He got up from his chair. "I'll get an aspirin an' head up to bed." Before heading upstairs, he asked "Now, are ya absolutely sure ya wanna go on with this?"

"I'm sure as ever, Sheriff. You've gone two days without sleepin' much, an' that ain't good for ya," Jeb said. "I'll handle things 'round here 'til you get enough rest."

Ricochet nodded. "Alright. I'm countin' on ya, Jeb." With a small groan, he made his way up the stairs and to his room.

Jeb felt a small swell of pride in his chest. Ricochet Rabbit, his second biggest hero right behind his brother, was counting on _him_ to handle things. After spending most of his day arguing, calming down and encouraging the distraught sheriff, he'd finally get to prove his worth as a deputy...well, junior deputy, that is. He wasn't here to fill in Droop-a-Long's shoes, after all.

"Don't worry, Sheriff. I won't let ya down," Jeb said. Fixing his hat, Jeb made his way back into the jail room.

His brother Zeb, whose cell was located right in front of the door, looked up at him in surprise. "Jeb..." he started. He ran over to the bars, gripping them tightly. "Jeb, I-I'm sorry 'bout all this. I was meanin' ta tell ya, but-"

"Zeb, I know you. If ya did somethin' bad, you'd never tell me. Rather, you'd try to put the blame on someone else," Jeb interrupted. His glare was hard as he looked at his older brother. "That's jus' what you did when ya attacked Mayor Nuggets, right? Ya pinned the blame on me, right?"

Zeb's face colored in embarrassment. "I...it was the first thing I could think of," he said pathetically. "I couldn't tell Mayor Nuggets who I was, or else that would've ruined the whole plan."

"Our plan was ruined the moment you didn't finish off Droop-a-Long like you were supposed to," Dave spat.

Jeb turned towards Dave. "Actually, I have some questions ta ask 'bout that," he said. "Sheriff Ricochet was gonna do it, but he's right exhausted after dealin' with you. So I'm fillin' in for 'im." He turned and closed the door, looking at all three men in turn. "Now, since ya gave us that very interestin' tip earlier, Dave, I'll start with you."

"I don't gotta explain nothin' ta no kid," Dave snapped.

Jeb's eyes narrowed. "Ya ain't makin' this easier on yourself, Dave. O 'course, I could tell Ricochet that you're givin' his deputy trouble..."

Dave snarled, but his face quickly went white as paper. It was clear he remembered Ricochet's fury from earlier. He didn't say anything else, and he looked down at the ground, fuming.

Jeb shrugged, but it was then that Chuck coughed out, "I-I'll explain since Dave doesn't want to," he said.

Dave snapped his head towards Chuck, his eyes ablaze with anger. "Chuck, don't you _dare_..."

"Smart feller, aren't ya?" Jeb answered. He walked over to Chuck's cell, pulled out a stool, and sat in front of the cell. "So, Chuck, tell me how ya came up with this idea to kill-"

"I-It wasn't my idea. It was Dave's," Chuck clarified. "I-I helped 'im out, though I must admit that I didn't trust his whole plan."

"I see. So, can ya tell me, in your own words, how this whole thing started?" Jeb asked. When Chuck hesitated, Jeb added, "Now, if ya hold back the truth from me, it won't get easier for ya...or for your business."

Chuck's eyes widened, as did Dave's. Jeb nodded sagely. "Yeah, I know all 'bout your business," he said. "You two run a wool factory in town, combinin' your company with Dave's to keep from losin' your money. If ya tell me now, you'd face scandal, maybe some profit loss an' a whole lot of angry folks, but at least you'd still have people runnin' the business. If the truth came out later..." Jeb shook his head and tsked. "Hoo boy, I shudder to imagine what'd happen."

Chuck swallowed. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and were going down the bridge of his nose. Zeb was watching the scene with wide eyes, while Dave glared at Chuck from the other side.

"It's your choice, Chuck," Jeb said, shrugging.

A long minute of silence filled the room. All eyes were on Chuck, who was working up a sweat. It was clear through his eyes that he was rapidly considering his options. If he told everything, Dave would kill him. But if he didn't tell, the truth would still come out, and worse things would happen to all three of them. And then there was Dave's gang to think about...

Swallowing, he said, "A-Alright, I'll tell. But if anyone asks, Zeb confessed first."

Zeb growled out a curse. Dave shook his head, frustration on his face. Jeb nodded. "Your story's safe with me," he said. He turned to his brother. "I'm gettin' your side next, an' then it's Dave last. Got it?"

Zeb nodded, while Dave grunted in response.

"Good." Jeb turned towards Chuck. "Now, as I was sayin' before, Chuck, can ya tell me 'bout your plan?"

Chuck nodded, doing his best to avoid Dave's patronizing glare, and started talking...

* * *

 _Havenport_

 _Marcus McCloud's Base of Operations_

Droop-a-Long set his coffee cup down at the table with a heavy sigh. Newly had made him another cup, but he couldn't bring himself to drink it, not after what he'd just learned about the people who'd taken him in. If he tried to drink or eat anything, he'd get a stomachache.

A little over an hour ago, Newly and Marcus had told him the entire story of how they'd come across him and why they were taking care of him. They were train robbers who stole precious goods from under people's noses and sold it to rich clients. Their boss apparently talked them into it when neither of them wanted to spend the rest of their lives working in the mines. Apparently, their boss also had connections to unsavory types, and the threat of death always loomed over both Newly and Marcus' heads. When they learned about Droop-a-Long, they figured that they'd keep him and take care of him in order to get reward money for when they did decide to tell Ricochet.

The news had shocked and angered Droop-a-Long. He'd thought he'd found some new friends, only to learn that they'd not only lied to him, but were planning to use him for money. He was nothing more than bait to them, he figured. He'd told them nearly everything about himself, and they probably hadn't cared a bit. He'd placed his faith in complete strangers, and where did that get him? Nothing but trouble, this time with the wrong side of the law. Droop-a-Long had been half-tempted to go to the sheriff's office and tell them what these "workers" had really been up to when they'd found him.

But when Newly had finished his story, Droop-a-Long had seen the regret in his eyes. And he knew then that he'd been wrong. Marcus may have been in it for the money, but Newly had cared about what had happened to him. Droop-a-Long had the feeling that if Marcus hadn't been there, Newly would have probably telephoned Ricochet like he'd asked him to earlier that afternoon.

Droop-a-Long looked over at the two men, who sat in front of the fireplace, eating their food silently. Even though these men were criminals, they were the only hope that he had if he was ever going to make it back to Hoop 'n Holler in one piece. And he didn't know what was going on over there, either. A gang could be running loose in town, and for all he knew, Ricochet could still be in jail, his offer having been turned down by the mayor.

Or even worse, the sheriff could be dead.

He looked over at his food, which he knew had to be cool by now. He had to push that thought away from his mind. If he allowed himself to believe that Ricochet was dead, then he'd lose all hope.

And he wasn't about to do such a thing.

"Hey, are ya eatin' that, or are ya jus' gonna sit there?" Marcus called.

Droop-a-Long looked up at Marcus, who had turned around in his chair to face him. Newly was focusing intently on the contents of his plate, chewing slowly. "I am plannin' on eatin', Mr. McCloud. But I've jus' got so much on my mind," he said.

Marcus scoffed. "What could you possibly be thinkin' about?" he asked.

"I..." Droop-a-Long sighed as he picked at his food. "I was thinkin' about home, Mr. McCloud. An' how I miss my friends."

"And? I reckon there's somethin' else you were gonna say, too, huh?"

Droop-a-Long groaned. "I was also thinkin' that I'd tell the sheriff of this town what you've been up to," he said, fixing Marcus with as deadly a glare as he could manage, "but I reckon you wouldn't like that idea."

"Darn right I won't," Marcus said. He pointed his fork in Droop-a-Long's direction. "An' you'd better get that idea outta your head, too."

"Why, 'cause you'll lose yer only way of makin' money, right?" Droop-a-Long countered.

"You'd better hush up, coyote, or else I'll kill ya!" Marcus got up from his chair. "I'll fill ya with so many holes, you'll look like Swiss cheese!"

"Do it," Droop-a-Long said. "I dare ya to do it."

"Alright, that's enough!" Newly shouted, getting up from his chair. "Both of ya need to shut up! Nobody's gonna be killin' anybody while we're here!"

"Says who?" Marcus snapped. "You ain't in charge!"

"Marcus, if you kill 'im, you're a dead man walkin'," Newly said. "I get that both of ya are mad, but shootin' each other is only gonna make things worse. Now, I mean it, both of ya, calm down."

Marcus glared at Newly, but he didn't say anything else. He sent a small glare to Droop-a-Long before stomping off to his room. The door slammed shut behind him.

Newly turned to Droop-a-Long. "You just caught yourself a break, Deputy. Marcus ain't a crap shot when it comes ta shootin'."

"I figured," Droop-a-Long said, cutting a piece of chicken with his fork and eating it. It was dry, but it'd have to do for now. "But he asked me what I was thinkin' so I told 'im."

Newly shook his head. "Look, I know you're still mad at us for what we did, an' what we planned ta do. If I was used a lot, I'd be pretty mad myself," he said. "But I reckon it's a good thing that Marcus found ya when he did."

Droop-a-long folded his arms. He couldn't deny that; if Marcus hadn't found him, he would've been dead by now. "Even so...it was right uncouth of ya to lie to me."

"I know. And I'm sorry for that. Really, I am. But we didn't wanna risk puttin' ourselves in danger," he said. "If the fellers who did this to ya found out that you were still alive, they'd come after all of us, an' they'll finish the job. Or even worse, they could kill ya when you're leavin'."

"Shucks...I didn't even think about that," Droop-a-Long muttered, his ears lowering. "Even so, I've gotta get back ta Hoop 'n Holler. I've gotta know what's goin' on an' iffin' everythin's alright."

Newly was quiet for a few moments more. Droop-a-Long stared at him for a few seconds, his eyes wide. "Do...do ya know what's been goin' on back in Hoop 'n Holler, Mr. Newly?" he asked.

He sighed. "I...Marcus told me not ta tell you when we got the papers today." After looking around to make sure he wasn't being watched, he pulled out a newspaper from under one of the mats on the table. He handed it to Droop-a-Long. "This one came in today. Apparently, Sheriff Ricochet arrested two fellas who gained their freedom by beatin' it outta the mayor."

Droop-a-Long scanned the newspaper quickly, gathering the most important details from it as much as he could. He was relieved to know that his fear of Ricochet turning up dead had been unfounded, and that Dave and Chuck had been captured and brought back to jail. But he was also worried about what his best friend was going through. He only hoped that he didn't beat the answers out of Dave and Chuck; he knew Ricochet well enough to know that he was not going to take people like them lightly.

One detail caught his attention: the name of Ricochet's new junior deputy, Jeb Forrest. This was a surprise. His friend, who was a farmer, was now working alongside Ricochet, helping him on the case. Droop-a-Long guessed that he'd heard the news of his disappearance and decided to join with Ricochet. It brought a small smile to his face. At least someone was sticking up for him.

"I wonder iffin' the other towns across from here knows what happened to me," Droop-a-Long pondered.

"If they didn't before, they will soon," Newly said. "But let's jus' hope that the wrong people don't learn 'bout what's happened to those fellas."

* * *

 _Outside of Hoop 'n Holler_

"So...they've got our bosses in the calaboose, huh?" one of the men growled.

"Yeah, an' Zeb's locked up with them. It won't be long before the sheriff learns about where we are," another said.

"What do ya suppose we do, Bob?" a third asked.

Bob looked at the newspaper gripped tightly in his left hand. "Dave and Chuck told us to ride out to Youngsville to make sure that Droop-a-Long's dead. An' that's what we're gonna do," he said.

"An' if he ain't in that town?" another man piped up.

"Then we go through every town over 'til we find 'im. An' if he's still alive, we kill 'im," Bob said. He balled up the newspaper. "They said that that pesky sheriff's bouncin' back. We're gonna take 'im outta the race for sure."

* * *

 _Ricochet's Office..._

Jeb exhaled softly as he walked out of the holding room at last, feeling both relieved and tired. Interrogating Dave, Chuck and his brother Zeb had taken almost all day, and Dave had proved to be a stubborn one, refusing to talk. It was only after Jeb had threatened to bring Ricochet back in that he decided to talk, although he was sour about it. It had taken a long time, but at least he'd gotten his answers, and now knew just why they wanted to punish Ricochet.

For the second time that day, anger ran hot through Jeb's veins. These two were nothing more than bigots towards both Ricochet and Droop-a-Long, despite what they said otherwise about Ricochet. They were simply jealous because Ricochet and Droop-a-Long were upholding the law better than they ever could, and simply wanted an excuse to off them.

Well, that seemed to be the case with Ricochet. In the case with Droop-a-Long, it was nothing more than senseless hatred, and they wanted to off Ricochet because he'd put an end to their "fun", because he'd protected his best friend from horrible people like them.

 _Calm down, Jeb. No need to get too worked up over this,_ he told himself, rummaging through the cupboard to find something to eat. To his dismay, he found nothing but sweets in the cabinet, most of which appeared to be carrot-flavored. Eventually, he found a small box of cheese crackers. He pulled those out and dug in the box, tossing a few of the bite-sized crackers into his mouth.

The three's answers had shed some light on the businessmen's plan, but now it lead to more questions. Zeb and the rest of the men, who formed up Dave's gang, had split up earlier that morning after Zeb had done his job, but finding them was proving to be a tricky matter. Dave said that he hadn't been in contact with his gang since last night, and he hadn't told them to go anywhere. He did mention, however, that the third-in-command of the gang, nicknamed Bazooka Bob, often took charge whenever he or Zeb weren't there and he could've led the other men anywhere. Jeb had the feeling that Dave was lying, but he couldn't afford to get riled up. There was a dangerous group of men on the loose, and they could be anywhere by now.

He groaned, setting down the box of crackers. "Now things are gettin' complicated..."

"...what's gettin' complicated, Jeb?"

Jeb jumped upon hearing that, and turned to face a sleepy Ricochet, who stood at the top landing of the stairs. "Shucks, Sheriff, don't scare me like that!" he cried.

Ricochet yawned as he made his way downstairs. "Sorry. I didn't mean to, honestly," he replied. "Came down for a quick snack, that's all."

"Ah, I see." Jeb studied the sheriff's eyes, noticing that they seemed heavier than they were earlier. "Did ya get any sleep at all, Sheriff?"

Ricochet rubbed his eyes. "I tried to. An' trust me, I need to. But I couldn't sleep for more than a few hours without dreamin' about what happened to Droop-a-Long," he answered.

"Aw, shucks...that's rough, Sheriff," Jeb replied.

Ricochet nodded, a despondent look on his face. "Let's face it, Jeb. the only way I'm ever gettin' any sleep is if we close this case an' get justice for Droop-a-Long."

"I think we might be close to gettin' to the end of it, Sheriff," Jeb said. "I jus' finished interrogatin' all three of 'em. An' they've given me some new details."

"Betcha they twisted around their story," Ricochet muttered bitterly. He headed for the cupboard and pulled out a box of carrot-glazed honey buns. "It's an old trick that all outlaws use."

Jeb shook his head. "Remember how Dave an' Chuck were gonna go out ta Youngsville?"

Ricochet turned towards him, honey bun in hand. "Yeah, so?"

"So, they were gonna take a whole group o' men with 'em. Originally, Zeb was gonna lead them out, but Dave said that he wanted ta take care of it personally, hence why Zeb an' the other fellers attacked J.P. Nuggets," Jeb said.

"An' what, pray tell, are they tryin' ta do?" Ricochet asked.

"They..." Jeb swallowed. "They were plannin' to go into Youngsville an' clean their tracks."

"Sounds like somethin' they'd do," Ricochet snarled, and practically tore into his honey bun with viciousness. Swallowing hard, he said, "No wonder Dave was mockin' me. He wanted me ta get my hopes up an' then crush 'em!"

"Thankfully, ya captured the two o' 'em before they got further out. But the third guy in charge, Bazooka Bob, might be headin' out to Youngsville ta do what Dave an' Chuck were supposed ta do," Jeb said. "Dave says he doesn't know where they are, but I think he's lyin'."

"Since all this went down last night, I reckon he is," Ricochet said. He finished off his bun with one bite. "We need ta go after them an' put 'em behind bars."

"You may need to get a posse, Sheriff. I don' know how many of 'em there are, but you're probably gonna need some help if you're goin' after 'em," Jeb said. "I reckon I'll stay here an' keep an eye on things while ya do."

"That'd be the best idea," Ricochet said. He offered up a small smile. "Ya did good Jeb, but this is only yer first test as junior deputy. Can I trust ya to hold things while I go out an' chase them down?"

Jeb nodded. "Ya sure can, Sheriff," he said. "Things'll be just as you left it when ya come back from your search."

* * *

 _The next morning..._

The town of Youngsville, a small town located 50 miles east of Hoop 'n Holler, rarely saw excitement like its nearest neighbor did. Like most towns in the west, it wasn't without its ne'er-do-wells, but there were fewer of them than there were in Hoop 'n Holler. And due to the diligence of the sheriff there, the town was remotely peaceful.

Little did the residents of the town know that that peace was going to be shattered.

It was early that morning when the first few citizens walking about happened to see the men riding into town. All five of them were wearing dark clothing and appeared to be armed to the teeth with weapons. Bullet casings shone brightly in the rising sunlight.

The leader of the group, a tall, dark-haired man, brought his horse to a stop in front of an elderly gentleman who was sitting in his rocking chair. The man looked up at him with curious blue eyes.

"Why, howdy, stranger," he said. "What can I do ya for today?"

The stranger smiled thinly. "I'm lookin' for someone, and it's right urgent that I find 'im. I hear he's blown through Youngsville on a train," he explained. "Have ya seen 'im?"

"Well, maybe if you tell me what he looks like..."

"He's a coyote. Tall, lanky, very lean build. Covered in pink fur," the stranger said.

"Hmm...no, nobody like that's been seen around here," the old man replied. "He would've been famous 'round here if he was."

"I see. Thank you," the stranger replied. He turned towards the rest of his men, and then looked at the older gentleman. "Oh, an' if a sheriff by the name o' Ricochet Rabbit comes by here, tell 'im that I'm only helpin' him out on this case."

The old man looked confused at first, but a few seconds later, he nodded. "Got it, stranger."

With that, the stranger got his horse moving along, and the other men followed. Bazooka Bob turned towards one of the men next to him. "So, Droop-a-Long's not here after all," he said.

"How do you know that for sure?" the man asked. "For all we know, he could be lyin'."

"The sheriff of this town is friends with Ricochet, Paul. If Droop-a-Long turned up around here, he would've told 'im," Bob answered.

"Well, I'm pretty sure Sheriff Ricochet's gonna be comin' after us soon," Paul said. "What do we do if he comes by askin' 'bout us?"

"Then we finish what our bosses started," Bob said. "I want two of ya to stay behind in town an' keep an eye on things. If Ricochet gets too nosy, handle 'im. Joe, Eric an' I are gonna head to the next towns over to see if Droop-a-Long's there. An' if he's alive, we'll silence 'im."

* * *

 _Hoop n' Holler_

 _An hour later..._

"Sheriff, you've got everythin' you need, right?" Jeb asked.

"That I do, Jeb." Ricochet was packing his saddle with a few bags. "I've got a canteen o' water, plenty of ammunition, an' food when I get hungry on the journey. A sheriff always goes prepared."

"I hope the other members of your posse have enough water an' stuff, too," Jeb said, helping Ricochet fit his saddle with another bag. "You'll probably be out searchin' for hours."

"That's true. But I've got a feelin' that I'll close this case today," Ricochet said. He swung himself onto the saddle and adjusted his gun holster. "I'm-a give this my all an' put an end to this charade."

"I don't doubt ya for a second, Sheriff," Jeb said. "If anybody can catch 'em, it's you."

"Thanks, Jeb. I could use a vote o' confidence right 'bout now," Ricochet said. "Good luck to ya, Jeb."

Jeb nodded and offered a small smile. "You too, Sheriff. An' you be careful out there," he said.

Ricochet returned the smile. "Thanks, Jeb. You take care o' yourself, too," he said. With a shake of the horse's reins, he made his way towards the town entrance, where four other men were waiting for him. Not long after he made his way over there, the group set off.

Jeb sighed as he looked up at the sky. "I sure hope he gets 'em..."

* * *

 _Havenport_

 _Marcus McCloud's Base of Operations_

Droop-a-Long yawned as he walked out of the outhouse, scratching his backside as he did so. Although he knew he shouldn't complain about his surroundings, he much preferred the bathroom back at the sheriff's office than this. He only hoped the bathing situation wasn't worse.

He sighed as he entered the house again. It was mostly quiet, save for Newly's and Marcus' snoring. He made his way into the kitchen, and used his one good arm to open the door to the icebox. There was cheese, a plate of ham, and a black pot with a top on it, as well as a few bottles of sauces. Droop-a-Long pulled out the cheese and ham and made his way over to the shelves to see what else there was. He opened the shelf and encountered some more food there, but the breadbox caught his eye. He pulled out the box, and after confirming that there was indeed bread in there, he set that on the table.

Looking at his wares, he mused, "Well, looks like I'm-a be makin' breakfast for everyone this mornin'."

Twenty minutes later, he had the ham frying on the stove and three plates with slices of bread on them. He was stirring up the sliced pieces of ham when he heard one of the doors opening. He turned around to face Newly, who looked completely surprised to see him.

"Droop-a-Long, what are ya doin'?" he asked.

"Makin' breakfast. I was thinkin' of open-faced ham-'n-cheese sandwiches," Droop-a-Long replied. "I'd make coffee, too, but I reckon that's not the best idea."

"And yet ya managed to cut six slices of bread," Newly said.

"Well...my coffee makin' skills ain't that great, but it doesn't stop me from tryin'. I don't wanna end up messin' up a brew," Droop-a-Long said. He motioned to a chair with his shoulder. "Take a seat over there, Mr. Newly. I'll be done with the food in a bit."

Newly, still dumbfounded, made his way to the table. Marcus exited the room as soon as he sat down. "Somethin' smells good, Newly," he said. "Is that bacon?"

"Nope. The deputy's fryin' up some ham," Newly said, motioning to Droop-a-Long. "An' how he managed to do that with one arm, I have no idea."

"Trust me, fellers, this ain't the only time I've had to work with one arm," Droop-a-Long said. "I learned a neat lil' trick about how to cut things." He took the pan off the stove and placed it in a bowl with a cloth stuffed inside. After sliding the ham inside the bowl, he said, "Once this here drains, you fellers can pile on as much meat as you'd like. Jus' make sure you leave some for me."

Marcus and Newly looked at each other, and then back at Droop-a-Long. "Uh...thank you, Deputy," Marcus said.

Droop-a-Long gave a small smile. "You're welcome," he said. "Since I'm gonna be stuck here for a while 'til I can get to town on my own, might as well be useful..."

Both Newly and Marcus noted the sadness in Droop-a-Long's voice when he said that. Marcus sighed. "I'm pretty sure you're gonna get back home some time, Deputy. But right now, 'til we can be sure that there ain't any more threats to you, you're gonna have to sit tight."

Droop-a-Long nodded, but there was no hiding the sadness in his eyes. "I know. It's just that I can't see who else would want me gone. Dave 'n Chuck are in prison, an' so's the fellers who tried to kill me."

"I wouldn't be too sure on that," Marcus said. "People like Dave and Chuck have folks to do their dirty work. There are probably more men where they came from. Trust me, I know that all too well."

"I bet ya do," Droop-a-Long replied, setting the cheese on the plate.

Marcus groaned. "Look...I'm sorry 'bout what's happened, alright? An' I admit...tryin' ta money offa ya wasn't one of my best ideas," he said. "Turned out ta be more trouble than I thought."

"Marcus!" Newly admonished.

"Well, I'm statin' the truth, Newly!" Marcus shook his head. "But even though you found out about us, an' even though we may end up gettin' killed over havin' you around...I ain't sellin' you out, Deputy."

Droop-a-Long almost dropped the plate of cheese. "Mr. Marcus..."

"Look, readin' that paper changed my mind, alright?" Marcus snapped. He looked irritated and slightly embarrassed. "Readin' about what those folks did to ya an' all..."

Newly smirked upon seeing Droop-a-Long's surprised expression and Marcus' embarrassed one. "Reckon you ended up gettin' on Marcus' good side, Droop-a-Long," he said.

Marcus' response was to slug him in the arm. "Shut up, Newly."

"Even so, I appreciate the gesture, Mr. Marcus," Droop-a-Long said, offering the man a smile. "Ya don't know how good it feels ta have someone to help out."

Marcus sighed. "Yeah...sure."

Droop-a-Long shrugged. "Reckon I'll take that as a 'yer welcome' for now," he said, turning to the stove. "Now to check on this here food..."

"All jokin' aside, I jus' hope none of them come pokin' their noses around here," Newly said. Droop-a-Long brought over the plate of ham for them, and Newly started to use a fork to pile ham onto his piece of bread, and then passed the plate to Marcus. "With any luck, they've probably forgotten all 'bout you, Deputy."

"I'm hopin' on that," Droop-a-Long said, sitting in his chair. "Well...it won' do ta get too worked up over this." After Marcus had taken his share of ham, Droop-a-Long took the remainder and put it on the bread. He then handed both of them the cheese, and Droop-a-Long took a slice of cheddar from the top. "Dig in, fellers."

* * *

 _At the same time..._

The sun was rising high into the sky as Ricochet and his posse trekked through the desert. Their horses were going as fast as they could, kicking up trails of dust behind them that could be seen for miles.

"Sheriff, I wish we knew where we were going," one of the men next to Ricochet said. "It's going to take too long with all this endless riding."

"I agree, Jim-Bob," someone else said, "but those boys didn't leave us any clues as to where they went."

"I know," Ricochet said. "But we'll find 'em, one way or another. And we won't stop 'til we do!"

This was met with a few groans from a few of the others, but nobody dared to complain out loud. Ricochet had told them earlier that he was taking this mission very seriously, and complaints would not be tolerated.

"Sheriff Ricochet, there's a town up ahead," Jim-Bob said. "Maybe the locals know where Dave's gang went. They could've blown straight through town on their way to their base."

"Let's find out if they did." Ricochet urged his horse forward and the party stampeded into Youngsville, catching the attention of many townspeople.

"What in tarnation is goin' on here?" someone shouted.

Ricochet brought his horse to a screeching stop, and then ordered everyone else to stop. Once the posse had stopped behind him, he faced the few townspeople that were gathered. "Alright, everyone, listen up! This is Sheriff Ricochet Rabbit!" he said.

This brought enthusiastic cries of surprise from everyone. "Holy moly, he's actually in town?" one man said. He turned around, cupped his hands around his mouth, and yelled, "Hey everyone! It's Sheriff Ricochet Rabbit in the flesh!"

In seconds, an enthusiastic mob surrounded them.

"What's goin' on, Mr. Ricochet?" another man said.

"We're lookin' for a group of men who came through town," Ricochet said. "They're armed an' dangerous, not ta mention wanted for murder."

Horrified gasps and murmurs went throughout the crowd. Ricochet held up his hand to signal that he wasn't done speaking, and when the crowd was hushed, he continued with, "I'm offerin' a one-hundred dollar reward for anybody who knows where these people went. So, if anybody's got information, now's the time to tell me."

This got the people talking. Almost immediately, he was bombarded with many answers. Everyone was clamoring for his attention, but Ricochet got the feeling that most of them probably hadn't seen the men, or knew who they were. He sighed as he turned to Jim-Bob, who was shaking his head knowingly.

"These people here'll do anythin' for a quick buck," he said. "Reckon you won't get much answers now."

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Ricochet asked. "Simply askin' sometimes doesn't work either."

For a few more minutes, people were still shouting their answers. Ricochet was about to give up when he noticed someone was pushing through the crowd to get to him. "Wait! Wait, Sheriff Ricochet!" the person shouted. Ricochet could tell that it was an older man, perhaps in his seventies. "Sheriff, I think I know who's you're talkin' about!"

"Everyone, make way!" Ricochet jumped off his horse and made his way towards the crowd. Most of the people parted, but a few were still in his way. After pushing past them, he found himself standing face to face with the old man, who was using his cane to swat a few people out of the way. "Sir? Ya said you knew who I was talkin' about?"

"Pushy fellers 'round here," the old man grumbled. He then turned towards Ricochet. "Oh, howdy, Sheriff! Rare ta see you 'round these parts. We haven't seen ya since the Summer Barbecue."

"That was a fun event, but I'm afraid that this is jus' business. Now, you said you knew who the people were?"

"One of 'em was a tall feller-reminded me of how I looked when I was his age. He had dark hair an' had lotsa bullets on his gun holster," the old man said. "He asked me if there was a coyote in town."

Ricochet nodded. Now he was getting somewhere. "What exactly did he say?"

"He said that it was real important that he found this coyote. He said he had pink fur, an' that he was tall an' lanky. I said that we haven't seen nobody like that 'round here. He thanked me, an' he an' his gang went on their way. But before he left, he told me ta say that he was only helpin' you out, Sheriff."

"He ain't helpin' the sheriff out, old man. He's helpin' his boss cover up a murder," Jim-Bob answered.

"He didn't know that Bazooka Bob an' the others were criminals. Reckon they kept their profile real low," Ricochet said. He turned towards the old man. "Are ya sure they all went on their way?"

"I think so. After he left, I took a nap," the old man said.

"Last time I remember," another person said, "two o' the men split up from the group an' went to the east part of town. The other three left."

Jim-Bob looked over at Ricochet. "Ya think they're here to spy on us?"

"It's a good possibility, Jim-Bob. An' I think Bazooka Bob went to the next town to see if Droop-a-Long was there," Ricochet said.

"So we've gotta go to the next town over ta stop these fellas?" another man said.

"I believe we do. But first, I need to find those other two men," Ricochet said. "We're gonna get some answers from 'em." He turned towards the townspeople. "Where'd you last see those two men?"

"Well, I know one of 'em went to the saloon," someone said. "But I don't know where the other one went..."

"We'll search there first," Ricochet said. "We'll find 'em, or my name isn't-"

"Sheriff PING-PING-PINNGG! Ricochet Rabbit. Ya need ta find yerself a new catchphrase, pal," someone interrupted.

Ricochet turned around. "Who said that?"

"Oh, wait, who am I kiddin'?" The cocking of a gun filled Ricochet's ears, and immediately, the townspeople ran for cover, screaming in terror. "You won't need one once I'm done with ya."

Ricochet turned around, and the barrel of a gun met his face. A tall lanky man with messy hair and a twisted smile stood before him, the gun held casually in his hand. Ricochet smirked back. "I wouldn't shoot if I was you," he said.

Multiple gun cocks could be heard, and the man turned to face Ricochet's posse, who all had rifles pointed at his head. "Yeah, that wouldn't be a good idea," Jim-Bob said, holding his gun steady. "Put the gun down. An' take your holster off." He then motioned to another man behind Ricochet. "Same for your pal, too."

A series of curses filled the air and Ricochet heard the clattering of guns hitting the ground. The man in front of him also dropped his gun and raised his hands in the air. With the threat to his life already past, Ricochet stood up a little straighter. "Now that we've got that situated, I've heard that you an' yer gang were lookin' for someone."

* * *

 _Havenport_

"Are ya sure he's here, Bob?" Paul said. "We thought we had 'im back in Chapel Hill."

"This has to be the place," Bazooka Bob said. "This is the only other town where that train passed through. The next town over is fifty miles away."

"An' he'd be dead by then," Paul said. "Let's see if the locals know anythin' about 'im."

The three men made their way into town, bringing their horses to a stop outside of the train station. A worker was sitting there, eating lunch. He looked up at Bazooka Bob and tipped his hat towards him. "Howdy, sir. Welcome ta Havenport. What can I do ya for?" he said.

"We're lookin' for someone, and it's right urgent that we find 'im. I hear he's blown through Youngsville on a train, but we had no luck there," he explained. "Have ya seen 'im?"

"Well, maybe if you tell me what he looks like..."

"He's a coyote. Tall, lanky, very lean build. Covered in pink fur," Paul said.

"Hmm...a coyote...Ah!" The worker snapped his fingers. "Yeah, there's someone like that 'round here. Calls himself Deputy Droop-a-Long. He came in on a train a few days ago. He was in a bag, too. Someone did a number on 'im, 'cause he was beaten to a pulp. The doc came by an' was able ta save his life."

"You know where he is right now?" Bazooka Bob asked.

The worker paused. "Reckon he's at one of the worker's houses a few minutes into town. One of 'em took 'im in, an' nobody's seen 'im since then."

"What's the worker's name?"

"Don't know. All I know is that he moved here recently. He ain't much of a talker, though," the worker said. He looked at Bazooka Bob. "Are you here to bring Droop-a-Long back to Hoop 'n Holler?"

"Yeah, you could say that," Bazooka Bob said. "We're a few of Sheriff Ricochet's deputies. An' since he's not up to the task, we're doin' it for 'im."

"That's right neighborly of ya," the worker replied. "I bet he'll be relieved. We've heard of what's happenin' in that town, an' with him bein' so busy with them other fellers..."

"He sure will. Where do the workers live?"

"They live right behind the train station. Reckon that new feller lives all the way down, close to the border."

Bazooka Bob tipped his hat to the man. "Thanks for the information."

As he turned to lead the men into town, Bazooka Bob allowed a cruel smile to come on his face. "More like Dave will be relieved."

* * *

 _Marcus McCloud's Base of Operations_

"Hey, Newly, I'm gonna be headin' out!" Marcus shouted from the front door.

"Alright, go already!" Newly snapped. "You're late enough as it is!"

Marcus sighed as he closed the door. He was lucky enough to have a benevolent boss; most bosses would've fired him if they'd learned that he was late for getting a case of indigestion.

It wasn't that Droop-a-Long had caused it. Droop-a-Long's food was good-possibly the best he'd ever had this side of the country-but wolfing down food was a habit he'd really have to break.

As he was heading out, he heard the sounds of horse's hooves hitting the dirt. He turned around to see three men on horseback making their way in his direction, scanning the streets as they passed the houses. A part of him wanted to ignore them and keep going, but as he started to do just that, he got the feeling that these men were not to be trifled with. He froze in his tracks, and the men soon rode up to him.

"Howdy." The leader of the men, a dark-haired man with piercing eyes, looked down at him. "Are you one of the newer workers 'round here?"

Marcus shrugged. "Yeah, I am. Recently moved here from New Mexico," he said. "Can I help ya?"

"Actually, ya can. We're deputies of Ricochet Rabbit, and we're lookin' for his deputy, Droop-a-Long Coyote. Seein' as the sheriff is busy dealin' with the folks who almost beat him ta death, we took it upon ourselves to retrieve 'im."

"That's right nice of you fellers," Marcus answered. "I'm sure that the sheriff will be glad to hear of that."

"Yeah, he sure will be. Listen, one of the workers who worked at the train station said that one o' their own took that coyote in. You know 'im, by any chance?"

"Not really. We get a handful of new recruits all the time," he lied. "Reckon one of them is the feller you're lookin' for." He smiled. "Now, if y'all will excuse me, I need to get to work. I'm late enough as it is."

He started to walk past them, but one of the men next to the leader jumped down from his horse and grasped his shoulder. "I'm sure ya can spare us a few minutes more an' tell us where he is," he said.

Marcus shrugged off his arm. "I told ya, I'm late! My boss'll fire me if I don't get down there soon!"

"Aw, come on! Help out a feller here, won't ya?" Joe gave Marcus a suspicious glare. "You ain't hidin' nothin' from us, are ya?"

"No, I'm not. I've told ya all that I know 'bout it!"

"If that's so, then why're you sweatin' bullets?" the man questioned. He grasped Marcus' vest with enough force to rip it off. "It ain't that hot yet!"

Marcus looked around at all three men, the latter two starting to get down from their horses. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Newly peering out the window, eyes wide.

The leader of the gang turned in his direction, saw Newly, and whipped out his gun. Newly had no time to get out of the window before he opened fire, blowing a hole in the window. Marcus heard a loud scream, and he struggled to get out of the man's grip.

"Whatsa matter?" his captor taunted.

"Let me go! Don't bring Newly into this!" he said. "I'll tell ya anythin'!"

"Like I'll believe that," the man snarled, and threw Marcus down on the ground. He pointed at the other man. "Eric, watch 'im. Bob, we're gonna search the house, right?"

"Yeah." Bazooka Bob turned towards Marcus with a glare that could wither a tree. "If you were lyin' to us, you're gonna pay." With a nod of his head, he and Joe walked into the house, guns in hand.

Marcus tried to move, but his new captor stepped on his back and pointed a gun at his head. Eric snickered.

"You don' lie ta Bazooka Bob an' live ta tell about it, kid," he sneered. "An' if the deputy's in thar, he's not gonna live long either."

Marcus' blood ran cold at those words.

* * *

Droop-a-Long ran out of the room upon hearing the door being violently kicked open. He'd been reading earlier after breakfast, and had thought he'd been imagining the loud _pop_ that had rung through the house. "Mr. Newly, what's goin'-"

He froze upon seeing the scene in front of him. Newly was on the floor and writhing in agony, one hand covering his left eye . A small pool of blood covered part of the floor. Standing in the doorway were two men, armed to the teeth with weapons. Bazooka Bob smiled cruelly at him.

"Well, well, well. You really did survive after all," he said. "Dave was right 'bout you animal folks bein' tough."

"Who are you?" Droop-a-Long demanded.

"I'm Bazooka Bob, the leader of Dave's gang. An' I'm here ta finish what Zeb started," he said, cocking his rifle. "Ricochet will never find out the truth."

Droop-a-Long inched towards the fireplace, where one of Marcus' spare shotguns was placed. "You'll hang iffin' ya go through with this, Mr. Bazooka. I'm askin' ya to reconsider this."

"I have my orders," Bazooka Bob answered. "An' I'm gonna carry them out."

Droop-a-Long rested his hand on the butt of the shotgun. "I don't think so."

Bazooka Bob took aim, and Droop-a-Long raised his shotgun just in time. He opened fire, and the shot blew off part of the doorframe. Bazooka Bob's partner hit the porch. Droop-a-Long dove for cover as Bazooka opened fire, blowing a hole through the wall. Fire coursed through his body as he hit the floor, but he forced himself to block it out as he made his way towards the shuddering Newly, who was still holding his eye.

He heard the cocking of a gun. "Not so fast, Deputy!" Bazooka Bob snarled, taking aim at him again.

Droop-a-Long raised his gun and fired before he did, and a sharp report filled the air. The shot hit Bazooka Bob square in the chest, and knocked him into his partner, who'd just gotten up. Both of them tumbled onto the porch in a heap. Outside, people began screaming in terror and running for their lives.

Droop-a-Long turned towards Newly, who was still shuddering and letting out small, choked cries of pain. "H-Hang on, Mr. Newly," he gasped, pulling the man to his feet and slinging an arm around his shoulders. "I-I'm-a get ya to a doctor or somethin' soon, but first I've gotta stop these people from killin' all of us."

Droop-a-Long dragged Newly along, placing him inside the guest bedroom. He grabbed a nearby towel and covered the wounded eye with a spare hand towel in order to stop the bleeding. "Y-You jus' hang on, Newly, alright?"

A loud shout filled his ears. "BOB!" This was quickly followed by a curse, and then the cocking of a gun. _"Deputy!"_

Droop-a-Long's ears perked up, realizing it was Bazooka's partner bellowing his name. He made his way back out of the room, closed the door, and readied his shotgun. His expression was fierce as he faced the man in question, whose eyes were wild with rage.

"You got any last words, Deputy?!" Joe snarled.

Droop-a-Long glared back at him. "You fellers tried ta kill me once. You ain't gonna finish the job."

The ensuing blast from the shotgun could've been heard for miles.

* * *

Chaos greeted Ricochet as soon as he and the posse entered the town. Gunshots filled the air, and people were running around in terror, almost trampling each other to death to get to the exit. Ricochet looked around, bewildered. "What in the world is goin' on?!"

"You there!" Jim-Bob pulled aside a fleeing worker. "What's goin' on?"

"T-There's a shootout at the work district. Three fellers just showed up in town, an' the next thing we know, they're shootin' up someone's house!" the man explained breathlessly. "The sheriff's gone ta handle it, but-"

"That's all I need ta know!" Ricochet interrupted. "Come on, y'all. We're gonna stop these fellers once an' for all!"

* * *

Marcus looked up as Joe flew off of the porch and slammed into the ground, blood gashing from his stomach. Droop-a-Long made his way out of the house, a shotgun in hand and smoke coming from its barrel. His eyes widened in shock. "Droop-a-Long, what are you doin'?!"

 _"You!"_ Eric snarled. He turned to face Droop-a-Long, his gun aimed at the coyote. "I'll kill ya for what you did ta Bazooka Bob!"

Droop-a-Long glared at him and took aim at the man. "Your friend already tried to. I wouldn't iffin' I was you," he said.

Eric stepped off of Marcus' back and got closer to the porch. "You cheeky little-"

Marcus took his chance. He leaped up off of the ground and tackled Eric to the ground right before the gun went off. The bullet hit the roof, and Droop-a-Long ducked for cover on instinct. In a matter of seconds, Marcus and Eric were wrestling on the ground, dust flying everywhere as they both wrestled for control of the gun in Eric's hand.

When Eric tried to turn the gun towards his head, Marcus elbowed him hard in the face, causing him to cry out in pain. One of his hands immediately went for his eye, and with his grip loosened, Marcus was able to wrench the gun away. He glared at Eric, and raised his gun arm.

"This is for what you did to Newly!" He slammed the butt of the gun against the back of Eric's head, knocking him out.

A cry of pain filled his ears moments later. He turned to see Droop-a-Long stagger, and then fall to his knees, his right arm clutching his side. Blood pooled from his paw and onto the floor. Towering over the injured coyote was Bazooka Bob's partner, Joe, who was holding a bloodstained knife in his right hand and grasping his side with his left hand. Blood pooled from his wound and dripped onto the floor, and Joe was obviously struggling to keep standing. But even from where Marcus was standing, he could see Joe's murderous gaze.

"You're goin' down for that, coyote," Joe snarled, and staggered closer to the coyote, his knife stained red.

"NO!" Marcus yelled, a sound that caught Joe off-guard. When Joe turned around, Marcus opened fire, and Joe crumpled on the steps, his knife clattering next to him.

Droop-a-Long looked over at Marcus, a look of shock and utter relief in his eyes. Marcus got to his feet and walked over to the porch, taking a look at Bazooka Bob and Joe's dead bodies. He then turned to Droop-a-Long. "Where's Newly?" he asked.

"H-He's inside the guest room. He got hit in the eye an' he's bleedin' real bad!" Droop-a-Long said. "You've gotta get him to the doctor or somethin'!"

"I will. In the meantime, you get back inside an'-"

"Halt, in the name of the law!"

Marcus growled out a curse. He turned to see an older man running towards him, sweat beading on his brow. A gold star glinted brightly on his chest. "You there! Are you the one who started this attack?" he shouted.

"No!" Marcus said. "That feller on the ground is one of the people who started it."

The sheriff looked down at the knocked out Eric, and then at him. "You ain't lyin', are ya?"

Marcus shook his head. "These three men were sent here to kill the deputy of Hoop 'n Holler," he said. "I killed one of 'em, and the deputy killed their leader."

The sheriff looked at Droop-a-Long for clarification, and the coyote just nodded, as he was in too much pain to speak. Right before the sheriff could say anything else, the drumming of horse's hooves filled the air. He turned around to see Ricochet and his posse make his way into the area, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Sheriff Ricochet!" he cried as Ricochet pulled up to a stop beside him. "Ya missed most o' the action, I'm afraid. Two o' three men who started the firefight are already dead."

"So much for catchin' Bazooka Bob," Jim-Bob groaned.

"I'm jus' glad we got here before things got worse," Ricochet replied. "Is everyone alright?"

"Mostly, though one of the men has a severe eye injury. Even so, that deputy of yours managed to hold his own, despite bein' injured," the sheriff continued, motioning towards the porch. "He even killed their leader."

Ricochet's eyes widened. "My deputy?" he repeated.

Jim-Bob looked in the direction where the sheriff was pointing at. "Hey, look fellas! It's Deputy Droop-a-Long!" he cried.

Ricochet turned in Jim-Bob's direction. When his eyes settled on Droop-a-Long, his mouth turned upwards into a smile, and his eyes became glossed over with tears. The posse surrounding him let out whoops of joy.

"H-Howdy, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long called, raising his free arm in the air and waving at the rabbit. He attempted a small smile. "I know I look worse for wear, but I'm alright...mostly."

Ricochet wiped his eyes and sniffled. "For goodness sakes', Droop-a-Long...don't you _ever_ scare me like that!" he said.

"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I would've told ya that I was alive, but things happened, an' I couldn't," Droop-a-Long said. He tried to sit up, but it caused his wound to flare up with pain and he winced. "Agh...an' I couldn't have made it back anyway..."

Ricochet was off of his horse and at his deputy's side in less than two seconds. When he saw the wound on his side, his eyes widened. "Where'd ya get this from, Droop-a-Long?!" he asked.

"Jus' now. One o' Bazooka Bob's men stabbed me for shootin' their boss. Marcus got 'im before he could kill me," Droop-a-Long answered.

Ricochet turned to Marcus, a stern glare on his face. "Well, what are ya still standin' here for?! Ya need ta call the doctor, immediately!" he ordered.

"Uh...right!" Marcus said, and he raced into the house, heading straight for the phone. As he did so, he overheard Ricochet yelling at Droop-a-Long.

"What were ya thinkin', goin' up to fight when you're still injured? Anymore injuries like this an' you would've been dead!"

"I had ta do somethin', Mr. Ricochet! People would've been killed," Droop-a-Long replied.

A small smile appeared on Marcus' face. For the first time in his life, he was never happier to have one of his plans go wrong.

* * *

 _Later that day..._

Droop-a-Long sighed as he relaxed in his bed. After the whirlwind of a day he'd had, he needed the rest. Plus, the doctor that had come by to treat his wound had ordered him to stay in bed until he was well enough to recuperate in Hoop 'n Holler. Ricochet had also agreed with this decision, and would hear no protests on the matter whatsoever.

As for Newly, he'd had to go to the doctor's office to get operated on, since his injury was more serious. Marcus had gone to the office to check on him, as had the sheriff. By now, the news of Marcus' illegal operations had reached him, and the sheriff was planning on questioning Newly when he was well enough to talk.

He just hoped that things would start to settle down now that the bad guys had been apprehended. But he really hoped that Newly and Marcus wouldn't be hit with a lot of jail time for this. Even though they were criminals, they had done a good deed in saving his life. He knew that the town sheriff and Ricochet would probably frown on his judgement, but it didn't matter to him. He only hoped that if they did go to jail, they'd learn their lesson and become better people because of it.

He was reading when he heard a series of knocks on his door. "Come in," he called, setting the book aside.

The door opened and Ricochet came in with a tray of hot food, covered with a blue and white cloth. He looked exhausted, as he had some bags under his eyes and they were slightly red, but he offered up his trademark warm smile towards Droop-a-Long. "Reckon ya might be a bit hungry since everythin' that's happened 'round here, so I fixed us some lunch," he said. He kicked the door closed and made his way over to the nightstand. "I even went to the trouble of gettin' a few hot dogs for ya."

"I think I can manage a lil' bit 'o chow," Droop-a-Long said as Ricochet started to plate their food. "Thanks."

"No prob. After all, the doc said ta make sure you keep up yer appetite," Ricochet said. "Have ya been eatin' a lot since then, Droop?"

"Yeah. I couldn't eat meat at first, but little by little, I started to. Today, I made ham 'n cheese sandwiches," Droop-a-Long said. After taking his plate, he picked up a biscuit and took a bite. "Marcus 'n Newly took a likin' to my cookin'. I figured that he was probably gonna keep me around as their chef."

"Well, you did say before that you're the best jailhouse cook in the Pecos," Ricochet said.

"True. But I kinda took that back when we had that family o' wolves stay in jail for two years." Droop-a-Long shuddered at that memory. "That was a nightmare..."

Ricochet chuckled as he sat in the chair facing the bed. "That's what happens when ya get what ya wish for, Droop," he said. "An' regardin' Newly an' Marcus, ya told me about their whole plan to get money by takin' care of you. They'll be disappointed to know that there ain't a reward."

"I figured. You always were kinda stingy 'bout those kinds of things."

Ricochet fixed Droop-a-Long with a patronizing glare. "Now what is that supposed ta mean?" he demanded.

"Oh, I meant nothin' by it, Mr. Ricochet. It's jus' a little joke," Droop-a-Long, offering up a small smile. "But ta be honest, I reckon he an' Mr. Newly aren't even worrying about reward money. I'm happy that neither of them lost their lives. I feel bad for Mr. Newly, though. He lost his left eye in that shootout..."

"That's gotta be rough," Ricochet answered, stirring his mashed potatoes with his fork. Even though he'd brought in enough food for two helpings for both of them, he'd lost his appetite just as quickly. In fact, he felt nauseous. "But I'm grateful to 'em. They took ya in when nobody else did."

"Yeah. I'm grateful to them, too," Droop-a-Long said, shoving the rest of his biscuit into his mouth. "Iffin' it weren't for them, I wouldn't be alive."

"Y-Yeah."

Droop-a-Long paused, and turned towards Ricochet, who was shuddering. He set his fork down, and turned towards the sheriff, wincing as he did so. "M-Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet's only response was a hoarse, choked out whisper, one that carried so much emotion that it stopped Droop-a-Long short. "Thank goodness you're _alive_ …"

Droop-a-Long stared at him in surprise as he started to shudder. The plate of food clattered to the floor, but it mattered little to Ricochet, who was starting to sob. It then sunk in as to why Ricochet was shuddering so much…"M-Mr. Ricochet-"

"I-I thought you were _dead_!" Ricochet shouted. He knew he probably sounded like a mess, but he didn't care. He swiped at his eyes, but it did nothing to stop his tears. "I-I thought you were dead a-an' _gone_ , Droop-a-Long!" In a smaller, choked up voice, he whispered, "I-I-I thought I-I'd lost you for good…"

Droop-a-Long started to get out of bed, his concern for his friend overriding his pain. "Please don't cry, Mr. Ricochet," he pleaded, stumbling over to Ricochet. He felt tears start to burn in his eyes as he said it. "I-I can't stand to see people cry…"

"L-Let me cry j-jus' this once, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "I-I need to a-after all I've been through, tryin' ta wrap up this case a-an get justice for ya…" He sniffled heartily. "A-After Nuggets told me w-what ya did to get me outta that prison, I-I came back to the office. I-I saw your blood on the floor…and your hat 'n necktie…" The memory of the discovery flashed through Ricochet's mind, and his face twisted. "I-I thought you were dead. E-Everyone in town t-thought you were dead."

"Ta be honest, I-I thought I was gonna die, too," Droop-a-Long said, wiping his eyes.

"I-I thought you were gone. I felt l-like I was a failure; I'd promised m-myself that I-I'd protect you. I'd stop whatever came t-ta hurt you," Ricochet said.

Droop-a-Long was shocked. "M-Mr. Ricochet, you ain't a failure. You did everythin' you could-"

"No, I didn't. If I did everythin' I could, you wouldn't be h-here, lookin' half-dead!" Ricochet interrupted. "Y-You almost died, an' I wasn't there to help ya. I wasn't there…"

"Mr. Ricochet, I ain't defenseless or nothin'," Droop-a-Long said. "I can handle myself jus' as well as anyone. Ya don't have to protect me."

"Y-You still don't get it, do ya, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet said. "Y-You're one of the nicest people in town, a-an' you're awfully thoughtful, always tryin' ta help someone. Folks have t-taken advantage of ya, o-or they jus' hurt ya for no reason. A-After what happened with Dave an' Chuck, I swore t-that I'd protect you. A friend o' m-mine told me that I can't protect e-everyone...but ain't nobody messin' with my best friend, whatever the reason."

Droop-a-Long swallowed back a lump in his throat. "Mr. Ricochet…"

"B-But then you defended me in front of most of the folks in town at Town Hall. And ya almost paid for it with your life." He looked up at Droop-a-Long finally, his expression teary and angry. "Why didn't you listen to me, Droop-a-Long?! If you had listened ta me, y-you wouldn't be in this mess! Ya wouldn't be here, lookin' like this!"

"Mr. Ricochet, iffin' I had listened to ya, those fellers that came by the office ta get ya would've killed me. They were supposed ta kill me way before, but they didn't. I-I reckon that if they killed the deputy on top of jailin' the sheriff, the townsfolk would know somethin' was up. Dave 'n Chuck jus' sent 'em to finish the job," Droop-a-Long explained. "And I didn't want to leave ya in there alone. Those fellers were insultin' you, an' I would've felt right guilty iffin' I sat back an' said nothin' to defend you."

"I told you to let _me_ w-worry about defendin' myself, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet protested. "Why did ya have ta be so stubborn an' try ta handle things by yourself?! Y-You put yourself in danger!"

Droop-a-Long sighed. "I-I know. An' I know I should've left it alone, like ya said. But I couldn't. You were willin' to go to jail in order to defend me, Mr. Ricochet. Ya risked your career for me," he said.

"Y-Ya don't have ta remind me o' that. B-But you risked your life, knowin' full well w-what they were c-capable of..."

"Real friends defend each other no matter what, like ya said. After you said that you'd always have my back, I had ta do somethin' to help you. I knew you'd be angry, but…I didn't wanna go on about my job without tryin', Mr. Ricochet. I woulda tried anythin' if it meant you came back as sheriff. Well...nothin' illegal, though, but I'd try every option I could." He looked down at Ricochet. "That's my way of protectin' my best friend."

Ricochet sniffled, and he smiled a little. "Y-You're too nice for your own good, Droop. In hindsight, I-I shoulda known you was gonna do that," he said. His smile faded. "When I came back to office a-and saw the damage, an' saw that you was missin'…that made me t-think that I f-failed, that I-I broke my word. A-As soon as I got in thar, I-I…I broke, Droop-a-Long. I couldn't do anythin' without thinkin' about w-what happened. I-I almost gave up."

"I-It was that bad?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"Y-You have n-no idea how d-devastated I was, Droop. I-I couldn't eat, sleep, or do nothin' w-without feelin' guilty or angry at myself…"

"Oh, Mr. Ricochet…I-I'm so sorry," Droop-a-Long said. "I-I didn't mean to make you that worried…"

"I-I should still be shoutin' at you, 'cause you went out an' decided to get me outta jail even when I told ya not to. But r-right now…right now, I'm jus' glad you're alive, Droopy." Ricochet rubbed his eyes. "A-And more than anythin', I'm glad I took Jeb's advice an' didn't give up on you."

"I-I'm glad you didn't, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, returning the hug. "If ya had, I-I may've…"

"Don't talk like that. Don't even _go_ there," Ricochet said. "Nothin' would've helped if you died."

"W-What happened to them, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Them?"

"Dave an' Chuck's men. Are they behind bars?"

"Yeah, Jeb's caught the two that were tryin' ta lead me off track, and I'm bringin' Eric back to Hoop 'n Holler so he can face their crimes," Ricochet answered. His gaze darkened. "Considerin' everythin' that lot's done, that's the most merciful option I can come up with."

"You were thinkin' of killin' them? That's inhumane, Mr. Ricochet."

"What they did to _you_ is inhumane!" Ricochet snapped, looking up at Droop-a-Long. "T-They…they harassed and abused you, then ordered Jeb's own brother to kill you in order to get revenge, and then tried ta off me an' take my job...an' then Dave n' Chuck ordered 'em to finish the job! It's a miracle that Zeb didn't have the heart ta kill ya, a-and that you survived that whole thing. If you had died, I would've forgotten I had this here badge on my chest." The incident with Dave flashed briefly in his mind, but he didn't want to upset his deputy even more.

"I get that you're angry, Mr. Ricochet. I ain't happy, either, but if you'd tried ta get revenge, you woulda died, too."

Ricochet sniffled. "I-I know that. B-But for a brief moment, the thought of killin' them crossed my mind. I wanted to make 'em pay for what they did to you, and what they almost tried to do to me," he said. "But…a part of me knew that it wasn't right, and that I would only make things worse. Also…I had the feelin' you would've been right upset with me."

"Mr. Ricochet, I don't mind ya gettin' justice, but committin' a crime to pay for another one would only mess ya up," Droop-a-Long said. When Ricochet still didn't look convinced, he continued with, "Puttin' them behind bars is enough for me, Mr. Ricochet. I'm jus' glad that Dave an' Chuck aren't gonna hurt nobody else. An' more than anythin', I'm glad that I'm still alive."

"S-So am I, Droop…" That was all Ricochet managed to get out before he buried his face in Droop-a-Long's fur and began to cry. The sobs he'd been holding back for days started racking his frame, and were escaping his throat. He tried to contain them, but he found that it was impossible. It wasn't long before he gave up trying to hide them, and cried in earnest.

Droop-a-Long didn't say anything to quiet him. He simply patted Ricochet on the shoulder with his good hand; although it wasn't much, he had to do something to comfort the sheriff. After everything he'd been through, it'd been a breakdown waiting to happen. Ricochet's tears seeped into his fur, and he fought back the urge to cry himself. Times like these made him wish for Ricochet's steelier resolve; his soft heart couldn't take much of this.

This incident had affected Ricochet far worse than what had happened with Sam Jose; it was easy to see for anyone who knew the sheriff. And Droop-a-Long knew Ricochet very well. Friends and family were the world to him, and if he'd lost either, he would shut down. Droop-a-Long had found that out the day after the Sam Jose case, where he'd been recovering after the outlaw had shot him. Ricochet had lost his composure then, telling him how worried he was, and that he blamed himself for not watching out for him. Droop-a-Long had comforted Ricochet then, telling him that he had no reason to blame himself for what happened, that he'd done his job in apprehending Sam Jose.

But this wasn't as simple. This time, he'd almost died, and Ricochet had not only thought he was dead, but he also thought that he'd failed in doing his duty, in keeping his vow to protect his best friend. He'd even almost given up, something that Droop-a-Long had a hard time imagining. Ricochet never gave up on anything, especially when people he cared about were in danger.

Just from taking a look at him, Droop-a-Long knew it would take more than one pep talk to help Ricochet.

It would be a little while before Ricochet's sobbing slowed. By this point, the bandages that covered Droop-a-Long's stomach were soaked through with Ricochet's tears. But the coyote didn't care about that. He focused on the shuddering sheriff, who was still buried in his fur.

"Are…" Droop-a-Long looked down at Ricochet, who was sniffling. "Are ya gonna be okay, Mr. Ricochet?"

"U-U-Uh-huh. I-I w-will be," Ricochet answered finally, wiping his eyes. He removed himself from Droop-a-Long at last. The yellows of his eyes had gone a pinkish red due to his tears. "I-I'm sorry b-bout that, Droopy. I-I was holdin' all that in an'-"

"I don't blame ya a bit, Mr. Ricochet. Iffin' our places were switched, I would've never stopped cryin'," Droop-a-Long interrupted. "I'm jus' glad that you got all that out." He smiled. "Thanks for rescuin' me, Mr. Ricochet."

"Y-Yeah, you're welcome, Droop." Ricochet wiped his eyes, and sighed deeply. "I-I'm jus' happy that you're alive…"

"Me too," Droop-a-Long replied. "Now, I reckon we oughta finish our food."

Ricochet looked down at his plate, which was smashed against the floor, and he sighed. "I-I think I'll hold off on eatin' right now..."

"You've gotta eat somethin' after cryin' that much, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "You'll starve yourself, an' that ain't good."

"Well...I'll try ta eat somethin'," Ricochet said. "An' afterwards, I'll try ta get some sleep before we head out tomorrow."

"Alrighty then," Droop-a-Long said. "How's about we talk about somethin' else ta cheer ya up?"

Ricochet smiled. "I'd like that, thanks."

* * *

 _Six weeks later..._

Ricochet opened the door to Droop-a-Long's room and checked in on his deputy, careful to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't be disturbed. He shouldn't have bothered with the precautions, however: Droop-a-Long was sleeping on his stomach, his head buried in the pillow, body tangled up in the covers and snoring loudly. Ricochet sighed, a smile on his face. It was half past ten, and the coyote was still asleep. He cracked the door closed and tiptoed away, despite knowing well that Droop-a-Long could sleep through an entire day until he smelled food.

As he made his way down the stairs, a sweet aroma filled his nostrils. He peered around the corner, and saw Jeb at the stove, stirring something in a pot. "Whatcha makin', Deputy Jeb?" he asked.

Jeb turned to face him, a friendly smile on his face. "Apple n' cinnamon oatmeal," he said. "I also made some coffee if ya wanted any."

"Thanks, I could use it, though," Ricochet said. "I've been up since six this mornin'..."

"Well, then, you go on an' eat your oatmeal. I'll fix up that cup o' coffee for ya." Jeb walked over to Ricochet with the hot pot and scooped three large spoonfuls into the bowl. "Droop-a-Long's still sleepin', isn't he?"

"He sure is. Reckon you might have ta use somethin' stronger than cinnamon to bring him down here," Ricochet replied.

"Good thing I bought that bacon last week. I was gettin' a bit of withdrawal from eatin' jus' carrots, spinach and rutabagas all day."

"You sayin' there's somethin' wrong with my diet?"

"O' course I ain't, Sheriff!" Jeb protested, his face full of bewilderment.

Ricochet smirked as he took a bite of his oatmeal. "I'm jus' joshin' with ya, Jeb," he said. "So long as ya don't shovel bacon down in front of me, I have no problem with you or Droop-a-Long eatin' meat."

Jeb sighed. "Sometimes, I have no idea when you're jokin' or bein' serious, Sheriff." He then made his way into the kitchen. "Coffee's on the stove, Sheriff."

"Thanks, I'll get it." Ricochet rose from his seat and made his way over to the small stove, pouring himself a large cup of coffee.

It felt good to have things go back to normal after closing one of the most difficult cases he'd ever had in years. Droop-a-Long's injuries had taken three weeks to completely heal, but Ricochet hadn't felt comfortable leaving his deputy in another town by himself, so he'd left all the duties of sheriff over to Jeb while he stayed in Youngsville with Droop-a-Long. After Droop-a-Long had been given a clean bill of health, the two had made their way back to Hoop 'n Holler, where the townspeople had celebrated with a large party welcoming Droop-a-Long back.

Dave, Zeb and Chuck had since been transferred to the state prison, and Jeb had taken them there personally. All three of them got hit with twenty year sentences, and the three men who'd been part of Dave's gang were hit with ten years for their trouble. Ricochet only hoped that when they got out of prison, they'd turn their lives around and atone for their mistakes.

Marcus and Newly hadn't gotten off easy, either. Youngsville's sheriff had uncovered their smuggling business and had issued a state wide alert to search for their boss, who they'd only named "Big D". Both of them got hit with ten years in prison, something that Droop-a-Long wasn't happy about, but he too hoped they'd make a turn around when they got out of jail.

A week after the case was officially closed, Ricochet had hired Jeb to be his second deputy. The farmer had been ready to leave after the case was wrapped up, believing that he didn't need him around since Droop-a-Long was back, but Ricochet had decided to keep him around. Aside from holding things together when he'd been at his lowest and when he'd been out of town, he'd decided that he'd need some extra help from now on and that he'd look into hiring some more deputies. Needless to say, Jeb had been very happy to hear this news.

As for Ricochet himself, he was in much better spirits. Things were finally settled down. A major attempt on both his and Droop-a-Long's lives had been averted, the people responsible had been caught and brought to justice, and no more attempts would be made to take over the town and overrun it with crime. He took another sip of coffee, a small smile on his face.

Yes, it felt good to be back indeed.

Ricochet finished his breakfast and then looked at the clock. It was already going on eleven, and the coyote still hadn't woken up yet,even though the smell of bacon was starting to fill the whole office. Sighing, he prepared to make his way to the stairs when someone knocked on the wall. His left ear twitched, and he looked to see who had come in. His eyes widened when he saw the person standing there.

"Well, I'll be! Denise, what're you doin' here?" he asked.

Denise Falconeri stood there in the door way, her eyes red and leaking tears. "H-Hi, Ricochet. Sorry I-I didn't call you or anything, but I couldn't w-wait another day," she said. "I need to know the truth. I need to know if he's still alive."

Ricochet didn't need to ask who she meant by 'he'. Before he could give his answer, he heard the padding of feet on the stairs. HE turned around to see Droop-a-Long amble down, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning.

"Mornin', Mr. Ricochet," he said. He sniffed the air. "Reckon that is bacon I was smellin' from up-"

Denise ran over to him, tackling him to the ground with her hug. Droop-a-Long hit the stairs with a loud crash. A few seconds later, Jeb came running from inside the kitchen, hand on his holster on pure reflex. "Droop! Are ya alright?" His eyes widened when he saw Denise on top of Droop-a-Long, and his face started to color in embarrassment. He turned to Ricochet. "Um...Sheriff..."

"Oh, that's Denise, his girlfriend from outta town," Ricochet said. "She jus' came in a few moments ago."

"Ah, I see." Jeb's face slowly went back to its normal color. "For a second I thought somethin' weird was goin' on..."

"You really think I'd sit back an' let stuff like that happen in my office?" Ricochet replied, turning to Jeb with an unamused look.

"Naw..."

" _Ugh_..." Droop-a-Long muttered, shaking his head. He looked at Denise,who was shuddering in his arms. "Wait a moment..."

Denise looked up at him. "S-So it's true...y-you're really alive..." She wiped her eyes and then glared at him. "W-We got the news of what happened to you weeks ago, a-and you didn't even bother telling me that y-you were alive?!"

"Denise..." Droop-a-Long made to hug her, but she held his wrist to keep him from doing so.

"No. You need to explain right now, Droop-a-Long," she said, frowning at him. "I'm serious."

"Denise, trust me, the last thing I wanted ta do was to worry you," Droop-a-Long started. "But a lot of things happened, namely that a bunch o' criminals were chasin' me an' wanted me dead."

"A-And even after they were jailed, you didn't find it fit to tell me you were alright?"

Droop-a-Long scratched his head in confusion. "Uh...reckon I forgot?"

"Droop-a-Long!" Denise groaned, pouting. "How could you forget something like that?! I was scared out of my mind for weeks! I-I thought I'd lost you!"

Droop-a-Long pushed himself into a sitting position and then put his hands her shoulders. "Trust me when I say that you was one of the first people I thought of, Denise," he said. "I thought 'bout how worried you must've been to hear somethin' like this. But I was stuck. An' if I tried to call you or Mr. Ricochet, I reckon I would've been dead for real. They could've traced my call or somethin'."

Denise sniffled and she turned to Ricochet. "I-Is that true, Ricochet?"

Ricochet nodded. "That is, Denise," he said. "Droop-a-Long's friend Marcus told me all 'bout it. I would've known sooner as well, but Dave's gang was closin' in on 'im."

Denise looked at Droop-a-Long, her expression fierce. "Don't you _ever_ scare me like that again, Droop-a-Long." She buried herself in his fur. "F-For goodness' sakes, please don't..."

Droop-a-Long hugged her tight. "I won't. I promise," he replied. "The last thing I'd ever wanna do is scare you like that. If anythin' happens to me, I'll try to get in contact with you as soon as possible."

She sniffled. "You promise?"

"I swear on my badge, Denise," he said, placing his hand on the gold star on his chest. "I'll never worry ya like that again."

Denise smiled up at him. "You know I'm going to hold you to that, right?"

"Of course," Droop-a-Long replied. He got up from the floor and pulled her to her feet. "I woulda been surprised if you didn't." He turned to Ricochet. "Hey, Mr. Ricochet, you don't mind if I take Denise out for breakfast, right?"

"Of course I don't mind, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said. "You go on an' have your fun. I reckon that you two have a lot to talk about."

"But what about breakfast?" Jeb groaned.

The smell of burning bacon answered that question. Jeb ran back into the kitchen, Ricochet hot on his heels.

"Ya can't get careless when you're cookin', Jeb! You'll set the whole office ablaze!" Ricochet shouted.

"I wasn't tryin' to, Sheriff!" Jeb shouted back.

Droop-a-Long turned towards Denise, who looked utterly bewildered. "That's the new normal 'round here nowadays," he said, hearing the chaos that was going on in the kitchen.

"I notice." Denise got off of him and stood to her feet. "I didn't know Ricochet had hired a new deputy."

Droop-a-Long extended his arm to her. "Well then, how's about I tell ya about while we head on over to the diner, Denise?"

Denise chuckled as they exited the office. "Very well, Droop-a-Long."

* * *

 ** _Finally, it's done! The "Protector" arc is finally done! *brings out noisemakers and throws a party*_**

 ** _As much fun as it was to temporarily go serious Western for 4 chapters, I'm glad that I finally finished this arc. I have so many thoughts on this thing that trying to explain it all in the author's note would take WAY too long. But I'll try to anyway._**

 ** _This story arc really got me into Ricochet's character as a whole; at the beginning, when I wrote the first chapter, I figured that it'd start off with Ricochet, and then eventually Droop-a-Long would take over the arc. While Droop-a-Long did have his moments to shine, Ricochet was the real star of this thing from start to finish, and it was fun to explore his character during this. Plus, I had fun sneaking in his trick bullets and his skill of outrunning bullets during the chase scene with Dave and Chuck. The scene where he almost strangles Dave was also pretty interesting to write, and shows that you do NOT push someone to this point, ever._** ** _ ** _And the scene where he reunites with Droop-a-Long was also pretty bittersweet. Given what Ricochet went through at the end of Part 2 and the rest of the arc, it was a breakdown waiting to happen. Ricochet's not this emotional normally, as I don't see him being the empathetic one like Droop-a-Long is, but seeing Droop-a-Long in his wounded state is what did it for him._** I'm glad that I extended this into four chapters, as trying to finish it all in one go would've felt too rushed._**

 ** _Jeb was also a blast to write. I originally had an additional scene with him and Ricochet, but that got deleted by accident, so I decided to work with what I had already and edit that. He's going to get a few shorts as well since he's now one of Ricochet's deputies, ones that expand more on his character. And speaking of original characters, I'm going to also include Marcus and Newly later on, possibly in a future short that takes place a few years or so after the Protector arc._**

 ** _And regarding Denise, she sort of came in when I thought I was done with the chapter. I figured that after mentioning her a bit in Part 3, she should make an appearance in this chapter. And I couldn't resist a little humor at the end to lighten things up.  
_**

 ** _I know I said that I was taking a break from this story so I can update my other stuff, but you know how I am :D Even so, I'll try to get back to my other stories that need updating._**

 ** _The next short will be the first step back to lighter far, with maybe a few adventures in between. The next few shorts will probably focus more on Ricochet this time around, with Droop-a-Long playing as a secondary role._**

 ** _Constructive criticism is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	19. Chapter 19: Room for Improvement

**A/N:** Here's another chapter of _Blazin' Trails_ , and this idea's based on another I had while I was writing another story. And hopefully, this chapter won't make you hungry :D

This short takes place in the timeline of the "Sugar Junkie" short-in other words, based on the part where they learn just how different they are. This bit is where Ricochet and Droop-a-Long discover how different the two of them are when it comes to cooking.

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet Rabbit or Droop-a-Long, people.

* * *

 **Story 19: Room for Improvement**

It was late afternoon when Droop-a-Long walked into the office, carrying a small stack of papers in his hand. Not long after closing the door, the strong smell of spices hit his nose. He covered his nose as he went to the sheriff's desk, which was empty, and placed the letters on its slick surface. He looked around the office. "Uh, Mr. Ricochet?" he called out, searching around for the diminutive sheriff.

"I'm in the kitchen, Droop-a-Long!" Ricochet called back.

Following his nose, Droop-a-Long walked into the kitchen. Ricochet was standing in front of the stove on a small stepladder, stirring a large pot with a small wooden spoon. He turned around to face Droop-a-Long, a yellow apron covering his vest and splattered with red in places. "Oh, you're jus' in time, Droop-a-Long. I was jus' finishin' dinner," he said, wiping his hands on his apron. He noticed Droop-a-Long holding his nose, and his smile faltered. "Did ya catch a cold or somethin', Droop?"

"Uh, no. It jus' smells really, really strong in here," Droop-a-Long answered.

"It's jus' the spices I added in my famous Southwestern vegetarian chili," Ricochet said. After putting out the fire in the stove, he got down from the step ladder with the large pot of chili. "You go on an' wash up, Droop, while I plate the food."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, making his way to the bathroom. When he got inside, he let out a small breath of relief. "How much spices did he put in there?" he muttered. After taking care of his business, he made his way back into the kitchen to rejoin Ricochet, who was placing two slices of bread on one of the plates across the table. It was then that Droop-a-Long noticed how immaculate the table looked; normally, Ricochet would just toss whatever was on the table onto the floor and call it cleared.

"Perfect." Ricochet made his way to his seat, and looked up at Droop-a-Long expectantly as he sat down to his bowl. "Go on, Droop, give it a try."

Droop-a-Long looked at the bowl of chili, which was so red it could give a stop sign a run for its money. He gulped nervously. He didn't really like spicy things, but he didn't want to hurt Ricochet's feelings. Just from looking at him, Ricochet had probably spent all day preparing this meal, and he wanted to know what he thought of it.

It looked like he'd have to grin and bear it. Mentally crossing his fingers, he scooped up a spoonful of the chili and took a bite.

Almost immediately, overwhelming, searing heat filled his mouth, making his tongue and the insides of his cheeks felt like they were on fire. Tears rapidly filled his eyes, and heat raced to his face. He snatched the glass of water from the table and downed the entire drink in one gulp. The bite of chili he'd swallowed left a burning sensation in his throat, and he seized Ricochet's glass and downed that.

Ricochet stared at him, bewildered. "Are ya alright, Droop?" he asked.

"Wha..." Droop-a-Long cleared his throat, as the heat had made his throat go drier than cotton. "What did ya put in that chili, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Oh, nothin' major, Droop-a-Long. Jus' carrots, celery, black-eyed peas, jalapenos, green bell peppers, red bell peppers, chili peppers, white pepper an' habanero peppers," Ricochet explained, listing off the ingredients, "with a touch o' black pepper."

Droop-a-Long stared at Ricochet, wide-eyed. "Are ya tryin' ta kill me, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Kill you? Why would ya think that?!" Ricochet demanded.

"Because half o' the stuff you listed could do that someone!"

"I happen to like my food really spicy!" Ricochet protested.

"Well, I don't, Mr. Ricochet. I don't mind a lil' spice now an' then, but I don't really like spicy food," Droop-a-Long said. "An' you made that way too hot!"

"Why didn't ya tell me you didn't like spicy food, Droop-a-Long? I would've toned it down for ya!" Ricochet said.

"Well...mostly 'cause I didn't wanna hurt your feelin's, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long replied. "I mean, you worked really hard on that chili, an' you were waitin' on my opinion of it..."

Ricochet sighed. "Sorry, Droop-a-Long. Reckon I got a bit carried away with the spices. But that's kinda how my daddy liked it. Nobody else but me could handle it, an' I loved it ever since I was a kid." He toyed with his fork. "Plus..."

"Plus?" Droop-a-Long repeated, curious.

"Plus...I wanted ta impress ya," Ricochet admitted, looking slightly embarrassed.

"Impress me? You didn't have ta do that," Droop-a-Long replied. "I mean, ya already do with your speed n' all."

"I know, but that's not what I mean. A lotta folks think that because I'm the best sheriff in the West, I can do anythin', includin' cookin'. But the truth is, a lotta folks tell me that...well..." He sighed. This was harder to admit than he thought. "It's not that I can't cook, but a lotta folks tell me my food's pretty bland. Even you said my rhubarb surprise could use a bit o' salt an' pepper."

Droop-a-Long smiled nervously. "Well, I didn't wanna lie. I think I said that there was room fer improvement. My pa said that to me whenever he didn't take to a new recipe o' mine real well."

"That's surprisin. You're better than me when it comes to cookin', Droop-a-Long," Ricochet answered.

"Y-Ya actually like my cookin'?" Droop-a-Long asked, surprised.

"Do I like it? I love it, Droop-a-Long. I nearly had three helpin's of that vegetable stew ya made a few weeks ago, not to mention those fried mixed veggie cakes you made yesterday," he said. "Those were absolutely delicious."

"Aw, now you'll make me blush, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

"Guess I have no business bein' in a kitchen," Ricochet replied, his ears drooping down.

"Aw, don't say that, Mr. Ricochet. It's not that you can't cook. It's jus' that you need to touch up on things. Iffin' ya do that, I'm sure you can be a good cook," he said. "Iffin' ya want, I could teach ya how to cook better."

Ricochet looked surprised. "Oh, you don't have ta do that, Droop-a-Long-"

"Mr. Ricochet, if I let ya have things things your way, I wouldn't be doin' much of anythin'," Droop-a-Long said. "Please, Mr. Ricochet. You teach me a lot of stuff 'round here. I'd like ta help you for once."

"Alright, Droop-a-Long. I suppose ya can help me touch up on a few areas I need help with," Ricochet answered. It was a bit difficult to say that, since he never thought he'd be asking for help with anything, let alone cooking. He gave his friend a small smirk. "I jus' hope you ain't a perfectionist, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long chuckled. "Trust me, I ain't, Mr. Ricochet," he said. He looked down at his bowl. "So, uh...whaddya wanna do with this chili?"

"I'll eat it, Droop-a-Long. I skipped lunch in order to make this," he said, taking Droop-a-Long's bowl.

"I don't know how you managed ta eat that as a kid, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, watching as Ricochet started to eat the chili.

"As my Daddy Ricochet used ta say, 'If ya can't take the heat, ya have no business bein' at the table'."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **This chapter also counts as a return gift to my good friend Vulaan Kulaas, who wrote a really cute one-shot for my birthday. Thanks, VK! :D**_

 ** _Earlier today, I was working on a short story on paper about Ricochet and Droop-a-Long recalling their first year working together, and it's filled with a lot of friendship chaos. I'll put it up when I'm done writing it out, but in one of the flashbacks, the two recall how they discovered that neither of them can make coffee (Ricochet burns his coffee, and Droop-a-Long is self-explanatory). That got me thinking of how Ricochet, while not terrible to the point where he should be banned from every and all kitchens, isn't as good a cook as Droop-a-Long, who usually cooks between the two of them and actually cooks very well (aside from the aforementioned coffee). His food tends to be either tasteless or overseasoned. And aside from his obsession with sweets,_** ** _he also likes extremely spicy food, which was bad news for Droop-a-Long :D_**

 ** _I might as well say I'll update whenever. I know that I have a lot of stories to write, but I find myself writing this whenever I'm bored. Plus, it's just too fun to write about Ricochet and Droop-a-Long._**

 ** _Not sure what the next short will be, since I have a good bit of shorts on standby until I update some of my other stories._**

 ** _Oh, and in other news, I've started doing videos now! I've posted two already: one a Ricochet Rabbit video (surprise) and a Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha AMV. The link to my YouTube is on my profile, so feel free to take a look at them and let me know what you think!_**

 ** _Let me know if there's any room for improvement (see what I did there?) on this story._**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	20. Short 20: Birthday Surprise

**A/N:** As I promised the last time, this one focuses a lot more on Ricochet this time around, though I can't leave out my favorite adorkable deputy :D Humor, drama and friendship fluff await you!

And holy moly, I've written twenty chapters of this story in the span of a year. _Super Readers' Biggest Adventure_ , which is currently my longest completed story, took _three years_ to get to twenty-one chapters! And it's also totaled up to over a hundred thousand words, too... ** _WOW_**.

Anyway, you guys go on and read this while I try to wrap my head around it. And this short is also a birthday gift to my friend Vulaan Kulaas-be sure to shoot her a few birthday wishes as well! I hope you have a good year, buddy!

 **Disclaimer:** *points at other chapters for disclaimers again because I'm lazy*

* * *

 **Story 20: Birthday Surprise**

The doors to the sheriff's office swung open and soon, Ricochet and Droop-a-Long walked inside, the former flexing his arms. "Well, that wraps up our last case for today, Deputy Droop-a-Long," he said.

"You sure showed Guzzlin' Gus a thing or two, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long replied. "There's no outlaw you can't catch."

Ricochet puffed up with pride. "Thank you, Droop-a-Long. Modesty keeps me from sayin' that myself, but I'm glad you said it," he said.

Droop-a-Long was glad that he was wearing his hat, as Ricochet couldn't see him roll his eyes, though only in jest. Ricochet was as modest and as subtle as a flying hammer; that was something everyone in town knew. "Of course, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "Oh, I'd better change the calendar."

"I thought you did that last week, Droop. We're two weeks into February!"

Droop-a-Long tensed as he looked at Ricochet. "I-It's already February?" he said.

"Geez, where have you been, Droop?" Ricochet asked. "I figured you'd notice by now, what with all the Valentine's Day decorations out."

"Oh…" Droop-a-Long sighed, and his tail dragged to the floor as he changed the calendar. "I ain't lookin' forward to Valentine's Day."

"Why's that, Droop? You at least have a sweetheart to celebrate it with," Ricochet said.

"T-That ain't the reason I'm not excited," Droop-a-Long argued quickly, though Ricochet didn't miss the blush on his face. "It's jus' that…uh…"

"Aw, come on, Droop, you can tell me," Ricochet prodded. "We've been best friends for years. We know jus' about everythin' there is to know about each other."

Droop-a-Long sighed, and turned to face Ricochet. "My birthday's on Valentine's Day, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

Ricochet's eyes widened in surprise. "Valentine's Day?" he repeated. "You told me that your birthday's in April, like mine!"

Droop-a-Long's cheeks colored. "I…I lied to ya, Mr. Ricochet..."

Ricochet frowned. "An' why did ya do somethin' like that, Droop-a-Long? You never lie!"

"It's 'cause I was embarrassed to tell ya 'bout my real birthday. People used ta make fun of me in school for it," he said, "especially the girls. They used ta say that I'd never have a girlfriend to spend Valentine's Day with. That's why I told ya it was April 14th instead, 'cause I didn't want ya to make fun of me."

"Oh…shucks, Droop, I didn't know," Ricochet answered, his tone quiet. "That must've been rough for ya."

"It's alright, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, waving off his apology. "'sides, it's not like I expect anybody to celebrate my birthday anyway."

"What're you sayin' Droop?"

"Well, I have some friends in Shadybrook, but most of 'em already moved to different parts of the country. My family was too busy to celebrate, an' we never had a lot of money for presents, let alone a real party. An' I don't want to leave Hoop 'n Holler to travel for three days to town. So, I usually celebrate alone." He offered a small, sad smile. "Guess I'll be doin' the same thing this year, too."

Ricochet looked aghast. "Droop, why would ya say that?" he asked. "I'll celebrate your birthday with ya. You always celebrate mine!"

"Mr. Ricochet, everyone in town celebrates your birthday. I reckon if ya tell the townsfolk about mine, they won't bother showin' up." He sighed as he turned around to fix the calendar. "It doesn't really matter anyway. As long as I'm still alive, I don' really care."

"Droop-"

"Aw, don't make a big deal about this, Mr. Ricochet. I don't make a big deal about it, and you don' have to either," he said. "Thanks for tryin' to make me feel a little better anyway." With another sigh, he walked outside, the door banging shut as he left.

Ricochet stared at the door, his mind reeling on what his friend had just said. He sighed, his ears flopping downwards in sympathy. "Poor Droop. No wonder he told me about his birthday bein' on a different month. Must've been rough with all that teasin'. Still…nobody should be depressed on their birthday." He tapped his foot, his mind turning with what to do with Droop-a-Long's situation.

At once, an idea formed in his head. "I've got it! I'll throw 'im a surprise birthday party, with a cake and presents and everythin'!" he said. "Droop-a-Long may not want anybody makin' a big deal about it, but when it comes to my friends, it is a big deal. Better head into town 'n start makin' invitations."

With a twirling of his foot, Ricochet shot out of the office. The gust of wind that followed caused the wooden planks on the floor, as well as Ricochet's desk, to be ripped from the floor. Droop-a-Long came running in seconds later upon hearing the collision of wood against the wall. He sighed upon seeing the broken table and chair.

"Aww. I jus' replaced that desk last week."

* * *

"So, your deputy's birthday's comin' up, huh?" the printer asked, looking down at Ricochet.

Ricochet nodded. "And it's a might important that I make this birthday as special for him as possible. I don' want him feelin' depressed about it," he said. "I was thinkin' of makin' some cards 'n invitations."

"Well, for custom made cards, that's gonna cost ya some, Sheriff," the printer said.

"Eh, the cost doesn't matter so long as Droop's happy with the result," Ricochet said. "I went to the trouble of makin' some sketches for the front of the cards."

"Oh, really?"

"Yep!" Ricochet pulled out a few sheets of paper from his vest and handed it to the printer. "It took nearly all afternoon, but I think I did a good job."

The printer took one look at the sheets, and his jaw dropped open. The very first sheet of paper had a poorly drawn stick figure of Droop-a-Long leaping into the air with the barrels of his guns drooping. The only parts that had any detail were his tail, hat and muzzle. After examining the other sheets, he then looked at Ricochet.

" _This_ is what you call a good job?" he asked.

"Who did you think I was, da Vinci?" Ricochet snapped. "I'm a sheriff, not an artist!"

"I can see that," the printer remarked.

"What was that?" Ricochet asked.

"U-Uh, nothin', Sheriff," the printer replied quickly, noting the scowl that was being sent his way. "Since Droop-a-Long's birthday's coming up tomorrow, I'll have to use these for now. I'm sure he'll like them."

"Good. For a moment I thought I'd have to redo them," Ricochet said. "I'll come back later to send them out to the townsfolk. I expect a pretty good turnout, so make lots of them!"

"I'll do my best, Sheriff," the printer said.

"Good. Now it's off to the store to get the ingredients for Droop-a-Long's cake," he said. "So long!"

As soon as he'd shot out of the print room, the printer took another look at the sketches and sighed. "If this is what he considers a good job, I'd hate to see his baking skills…"

* * *

"Now…what kinda cake would Droop have a hankerin' for?" Ricochet said, looking around the store for ingredients. "I already know he ain't super fond o' carrot cake, or angel food cake, or pumpkin cake."

"That's because those are your favorites, Sheriff," the greengrocer pointed out.

Ricochet blushed in embarrassment. "Ah, right," he said. "Reckon he was eatin' those so he wouldn't have to hurt my feelin's."

"Last I heard, he's right fond of devil's food cake," the greengrocer said, "as well as red velvet and lemon cake."

"Ooh, I haven't had a lemon cake in a year or two," Ricochet said, rubbing his hands together. "I always have a carrot cake on Mondays."

"Aren't you supposed to be on a diet, Sheriff?" the greengrocer asked.

"Well…I'm allowed to break it for one day, right?" Ricochet asked with a hopeful smile.

"Eh…I guess it wouldn't hurt. Jus' make sure you don't eat all the cake from Droop-a-Long or the rest of the guests."

"I'm not _that_ bad when it comes to cake," Ricochet said.

"Oh, right. It's donuts that you've got a weakness for," the greengrocer said.

Ricochet sighed as he started picking out the ingredients for the lemon cake. "I'm startin' ta regret sendin' Droop-a-Long to get the groceries."

"Well, he's usually not particular about desserts, Sheriff."

* * *

 _The next day…_

Droop-a-Long yawned as he came downstairs for breakfast. He sighed as he looked at the calendar. "Another year comes and goes," he said. He put on his hat and made his way to the table, where he encountered something odd.

Usually, Ricochet was right there, serving up over-easy eggs and toast, which was what Droop-a-Long usually ate for breakfast. Instead, there was a piece of carrot cake-flavored coffee cake on the table as well as some coffee. Ricochet himself was nowhere to be seen.

"Golly, I wonder if Mr. Ricochet went on another case," Droop-a-Long pondered. "I guess that's why he left this." Sighing he picked up the piece of coffee cake and started to eat it. "Hmm….this one's got more carrots in it than last time…"

Just then the doors to the sheriff's office opened and Ricochet walked inside. He looked surprised to see Droop-a-Long there. "Oh, you're up early, Droop," he said. "Happy birthday!"

"Thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I reckon you had some business to take care of this mornin'."

"I sure did, Deputy," Ricochet answered. He yawned. "I was up early doin' some work."

"Would ya like a cup of coffee, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Thanks, Droop, but I'll make it myself," Ricochet said. He made his way to the stove, where a steaming pot of coffee was sitting. Pulling out a mug from the cabinet, he said, "After you finish eatin', there's somethin' I want ya to do for me."

Droop-a-Long swallowed another bite of carrot cake. "Oh? What's that?"

"I need ya to pick up a couple of packages for me at the post office," Ricochet replied, pouring the coffee in the mug and then dumping a spoonful of sugar. "One of my relatives is comin' over."

"Oh, so you're getting' him a welcomin' present? That's real nice of ya, Mr. Ricochet."

"Thanks, Droop. I reckon he'll like these."

"So, which relative is it, Mr. Ricochet? Is it your cousin from Mexico?" Droop-a-Long had heard stories of Ricochet's numerous relatives, and it was hard to keep track of them all.

"Yep. That's Ricochet Chavez," Ricochet answered. "He's only stayin' for a few days, though. After that, he's gotta go back to Mexico to catch more crooks."

"Well, in that case, I'd better get those presents for ya, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I bet you'd want 'em to be stored away before he gets here."

"That's the idea, Droopy. Now, you'd better finish up before your coffee goes cold."

"Right." Droop-a-Long guzzled down his mug, then stared at the cup. "Did ya put cream and sugar in my cup, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Sorry 'bout that, Droop. I forgot you take your coffee black," Ricochet answered.

"That's alright, Mr. Ricochet. With you gettin' ready for Mr. Chavez to come over, I guess ya got distracted," Droop-a-Long said. "I'd best mosey on over to the post office. Who knows how long it'll take for them to get the order ready?"

"I agree. See ya later, Droop," Ricochet said.

As soon as Droop-a-Long was out the door, Ricochet pulled out a cookbook from his vest. "I didn't want to lie to Droop like that, but I had to give him somethin' to do 'til I get this cake ready," he said. He licked his lips as he looked at the picture of the lemon cake. "I can't wait to sink my teeth into this. Now, to get my apron and mixin' materials ready…"

Ten minutes later, Ricochet was the table, a yellow apron over his vest. He was mixing the ingredients together, occasionally checking the book for measurements. The recipe in question was titled "Best Lemon Cake Ever". Truthfully, he doubted it-he'd had his fair share of trying "Best Ever" recipes and they had turned out mediocre at best, inedible at worst-but the cake was for his best friend. Droop-a-Long was always doing nice things for him, and he wanted to return that favor in kind. Anything less than the best was unacceptable.

"'Add in vanilla extract, an' stir ingredients together until smooth'," he read aloud. After doing just that, he sampled his mixture. His lips curled upwards into a smile. "Mmm. Now this really _is_ the best lemon cake ever." Licking his lips, he looked at the bowl. "Hmm…I bet it won't hurt to have a little more of this." Scooping up some more of the mixture, he took another bite, followed by another one.

He'd been about to take a third one when the doors to his office opened and several of the townspeople walked in-specifically the baker, Mr. Honeycomb; the greengrocer, Mr. Kingsley; and the banker, Mr. Stonewall. All three of them had their arms full of presents.

"Howdy, Sheriff! We brought the presents, like you asked," Mr. Honeycomb said.

"Yeah, you won't believe how many people sent in presents for 'im," Mr. Kingsley added.

Ricochet turned towards them, dumping the spoon in the bowl. "Great! Set 'em over here by my desk, and I'll hide 'em later," he said. "I'm currently makin' Droop's birthday cake. It's literally the best lemon cake I've ever had."

"Yeah, and we'll never have it if you keep eating the batter, Sheriff," the greengrocer said.

"I wasn't eatin' the whole thing!" Ricochet huffed.

The greengrocer shot him a knowing look, and Ricochet's expression turned sheepish. "Well…I might've had a _couple_ o' spoonfuls," he admitted.

Mr. Stonewall, came over to see the bowl. "Those must've been some big spoonfuls. You've eaten to the bottom of the bowl!" he said.

"I couldn't help it! I didn't eat breakfast this mornin'!"

"No need to make a big fuss out of it, Ricochet," Mr. Honeycomb said. "I'll make a new cake for your deputy with the recipe you were making."

Ricochet sighed with relief. "Mr. Honeycomb, you're a lifesaver. You take care of that while I get the decorations an' presents set up," he said. "After that, I'll head out an' find Droop-a-Long. Before I come back with Droop-a-Long, I want you all to hide around the office 'til I give the signal."

"Right, Sheriff!"

* * *

"Hey, what kind of game are ya tryin' to pull here, dog?"

"Yeah, we've got stuff to send to our families!"

When Droop-a-Long walked inside the post office, there was practically a mob surrounding the front desk. The postmaster was scrambling about, trying to sort out orders.

"Shuckins, it's gonna take me forever to sort all these out." The postmaster, who was a short, blue-furred dog dressed in blue and white, turned to address the mob. "Sorry, folks, but until I can get these here orders sorted out, you're gonna have to wait."

"Aw, come on!" one man yelled, and many more followed suit.

Droop-a-Long groaned. "Mr. Ricochet's not gonna be happy with this," he muttered.

* * *

"Uh…are ya sure the cake's supposed to turn out like that?" Stonewall asked.

"It looks more like a pancake to me," Kingsley scoffed.

"Maybe if you weren't movin' around so much, the cake wouldn't have fallen in the stove!" Ricochet growled.

"Oh yeah?" Kingsley retorted. "Well, you probably shouldn't have told us to put up the decorations!"

"Guys, this is no time to be arguing! I have no idea when Droop-a-Long's comin' back, and we still have lots to do!" Mr. Honeycomb said.

Kingsley sighed. "You're right. I guess we were in such a rush that we didn't have a proper plan."

"Or the proper design," Stonewall said. "We spent so long fighting over everything else that we didn't think to plan who'd do what."

"Yeah, that's true," Ricochet said. He sighed. Things were not going as he planned. "Well, looks like we'll be makin' another cake."

"I just hope it gets done before the deputy comes back to the office," Kingsley said.

"Oh, Mr. Ricochet! I've got some bad news!"

Everyone froze in place. "It's Droop! He's back way too early!" Ricochet said. "I'll distract 'im, while you all finish up in here!"

"Got it, Sheriff!" the greengrocer said.

Ricochet shot out of the office, and swiftly close the door. Droop-a-Long was making his way over to him, his face set into a disappointed frown.

"H-Howdy, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, trying to appear relaxed as he leaned against the wall, one leg crossed over the other. "You said you had some bad news?"

Thankfully, the coyote hadn't seen the chaos inside the office. "Yeah," Droop-a-Long said. "The post office is in an uproar 'cause the orders aren't set up properly. I figured I'd come back 'n see if there was anythin' else we need."

"Come to think of it, we need ta go grocery shoppin', Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said.

"Oh, okay. I'll head in and write out a list," Droop-a-Long said.

"Ah, no need ta do that, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said quickly. "I'll come with ya. After that, we can head to the saloon for lunch."

"That sounds fun, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "Looks like it's gonna be one of them quiet afternoons."

"It sure does, Deputy," Ricochet said. "And I intend to take full advantage of it."

* * *

 _A little while later..._

"Hey, Mr. Ricochet, do ya like sauerkraut much?"

Ricochet made a face. " _Blegh_ , not really, Droop. See if they've got any rutabaga pastries," he said.

"What happened to the ones I bought last week?"

"What do ya think, Droop? I ate 'em!"

Droop-a-Long sighed. "Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," he said, and disappeared into the packaged foods section. "I sure hope there's some meat pastries in here, too."

Ricochet let out a tired sigh of his own as he perused the canned foods aisle. They didn't really need anything from the store, but with the people at the office, he needed something to keep his deputy busy until everything was settled for his party. He'd hoped that the list he'd given Droop-a-Long would keep him occupied, but Droop-a-Long had chosen today of all days to finish his work as quickly as possible; the coyote had come back with the items in under ten minutes, and normally it took him an hour to shop. As impressed as he was, Ricochet was running out of things he "needed"…and he was running out of patience.

As if on cue, Droop-a-Long came around the corner with five boxes of pastries and a wide smile. "Good news, Mr. Ricochet! They had a five-fer-five sale on these!" he said. "I even found a few meat pastries in here, too!"

"That's great, Droop. Now let's go ahead an' pay for these," Ricochet said.

"Oh, you don' have to, Mr. Ricochet. I'll pay for it. I've got a lot of money on me today," Droop-a-Long said. "You should take it easy, what with gettin' ready for your cousin to show up."

Ricochet had to keep himself from wincing. Droop-a-Long had chosen today of all days to remember things as well. "Yeah, I've been right busy with a lot of stuff," he answered.

While Droop-a-Long was at the register paying for the groceries, there was a knock at the window. Ricochet turned around to face Kingsley, who looked proud of himself. After making sure that his deputy wasn't looking, he went outside to talk to the greengrocer.

"So, how's everythin' going with the party?" he asked.

"Oh, it's going great! We've got decorations up, the guests are starting to come in, the presents are lined up, and the cake's in the oven," he said. "Everything will be perfectly fine by the time you get there."

"Good. And you'd better hurry; I'm runnin' out of things to distract Droop-a-Long with!"

No sooner had he said that than Droop-a-Long started to walk out of the store. Kingsley quickly made his exit; thankfully, he wasn't seen as Droop-a-Long was trying not to drop the large amount of groceries in his arms.

"I've got the groceries, Mr. Ricochet. We'd best mosey back to the office 'n drop 'em off before we head to lunch."

"I'll do it myself, Droopy. You go ahead and get to the restaurant," he said.

"Oh, but I'd like to help, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long insisted.

"Nonsense, Droop. I'm good. 'sides, it's your birthday, and you should enjoy your time off," he said. "Let me hold those groceries for ya."

"Well, alright, Mr. Ricochet." After handing the bags to Ricochet, he asked, "Do ya want me ta save ya a table?"

"That'd be great, Droopy. I hear that lunch time is pretty crowded," he said.

"Sure thing. Jus' don't take too long, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

"Have I ever been known to take long, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet countered.

"Nope, never."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Ricochet made his way back to the saloon, feeling pretty proud of himself. He'd dropped off the groceries as well as checked on the progress of the party preparations. Kingsley had been right; everything was looking great. The refreshments were set, the presents were hidden away and the cake was nearly ready. By the time lunch was over, everything would be set.

When he walked inside, Droop-a-Long was sitting at a table closest to the bar, two root beers already at the table. He was spinning the ice cubes with his straw when Ricochet came over to him.

"Oh, Mr. Ricochet, I hope ya don't mind, but I placed our orders already," he said. "Ordered the usual tomato soup for you."

Ricochet sighed as he slid into his chair. "Thanks, Droop-a-Long. That's mighty considerate of ya," he said.

"No problem, Mr. Ricochet. I ordered the open-faced sandwich," he said. Taking a sip of his root beer, he said, "I can't wait to get back to the office, Mr. Ricochet. All this runnin' around's got me beat."

 _You're not the only one who's beat, Droop._ "You said it, Droop. After we're done, we'll head back and have a game of ping-pong," Ricochet said.

"Hmmm…I was thinkin' we could play some pool," Droop-a-Long said, motioning to the pool table in the corner.

This did surprise Ricochet. His deputy didn't have a keen interest in sports, even the less rigorous ones like darts or golf. "You like pool, Droop-a-Long?" he asked.

"Yeah. Always have, ever since I saw a couple of fellers playin' it a while back," he said. "I actually learned how ta play it the last time I came here, an' I'm not too bad of a shot, either."

"Huh. Well, as much as I'd like to play some pool, I'd really like to get back home," Ricochet said.

"Oh…okay," Droop-a-Long said. He sounded a bit disappointed, but he offered a small smile to Ricochet. "Well, no problem. I guess we'll play some other time."

At that moment, the waitress came over with their food. "Here ya are, fellas," she said. "Tomato soup for the sheriff, and the loaded open-face sandwich for the deputy." After handing both of them their meals, she turned to Droop-a-Long, and sultrily added, "Enjoy your present, birthday boy."

Droop-a-Long stammered a thank you, his face turning so pink it rivaled his fur coat. Ricochet had to hide his smile from behind his glass of root beer.

"So, apparently a few people know that it's your birthday today, Droop," he said.

"Y-Yeah," Droop-a-Long said. "I kinda told her, since she was bein' so nice to me."

"Nice? She was bein' sweet on you, Droop," Ricochet said. "I know when gals are into someone."

"Well, she wasn't too bad to look at, Mr. Ricochet…for a human, that is," Droop-a-Long said.

"Be glad Denise wasn't here to hear that."

Droop-a-Long blushed some more. "Yeah…" He then turned towards his food, cut a decent portion with his fork, and shoved it into his mouth.

Ricochet sighed. He'd told his deputy time and time again that watching him shovel meat down his mouth was a little nauseating, but as usual he always forgot. And today, he was apparently hungry, as he was now halfway through the sandwich.

No sooner had Ricochet started his soup than a loud explosion rocked the area, shaking the tables and throwing people out of their chairs. Ricochet held onto the table, his soup splashing, and Droop-a-Long fell on the floor, dropping his fork in the process. People screamed in terror.

When the room stopped shaking, nobody made a sound for a long moment. Several people remained on the floor, too afraid to even move. Ricochet looked around, and said, "Is everyone okay?"

"Y-Yeah, Sheriff," the waitress replied, wobbling unsteadily on her feet. She'd been carrying a full tray of food, which was now splattered against the floor amidst shattered glass. "I'm jus' glad nobody got hurt." A few more affirmatives filled the room.

"What could've caused that?" Ricochet asked.

Droop-a-Long coughed as he got up from the floor. "I-I don't know, but I sure hope it wasn't someone settin' off a bomb again."

The doors to the saloon burst open and one of the townsmen ran in, shock on his face. "Sheriff Ricochet's office is on fire!"

"WHAT?!" everyone yelled.

Ricochet and Droop-a-Long ran outside, heading for the sheriff's office. Ricochet gasped in horror as he saw smoke rise out of the window. Outside, Kingsley, Stonewall and Mr. Honeycomb were arguing with each other. Their faces and clothes were covered with soot. Some of the townspeople were trying to throw buckets of water inside in order to put out the fire.

"Mr. Honeycomb! What happened here?" Ricochet asked, skidding to a stop in front of them.

The baker made to answer, but Stonewall pushed past him. "He got the great idea to get the firecrackers from out of the closet and trip," he said.

Honeycomb turned on him. " _My_ great idea? This is coming from the person who said that Droop-a-Long deserves 'pizzazz'," he said, waving his hands at the word "pizzazz", "and you said to get the first thing I found and we could use it!"

"You guys are acting like the whole office blew up," Stonewall said offhandedly. "They only exploded in the kitchen, not the rest of the office."

"Yeah, and the kitchen is where _the cake was_!" both Kingsley and Mr. Honeycomb yelled.

"Hold on a minute…you brought firecrackers…in the _kitchen_ …and set them off in there?" Ricochet growled, glaring up at the two men.

"B-By accident…" Honeycomb added sheepishly.

 _"_ _WHAT IN TARNATION IS WRONG WITH YOU?!"_ Ricochet's roar of fury made all three men jolt. "You've gone an' ruined _everything_!"

"Mr. Ricochet, i-it was just an accident. Why're you yellin' at them?" Droop-a-Long said. He stood behind the sheriff, wary of getting next to him at the moment.

"They ruined everythin', that's what I'm yellin' about!" Ricochet snapped, turning to face him. "They almost blew the office up with firecrackers when they were supposed to be gettin' the office ready for your birthday party!"

"Birthday party? But I thought Mr. Chavez was comin' down," Droop-a-Long said, confused. "That's why ya sent me out all over the place, to the post office an' to-"

Ricochet slapped himself on the forehead, and turned towards his deputy. "Droop-a-Long...Ricochet Chavez ain't comin' to town, alright?" he said.

"Why? Did he cancel the trip again?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"...I lied 'bout that, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet admitted.

"You lied about it?" Droop-a-Long stared at him, shocked. "B-But why, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet sighed, and his ears drooped slightly. "Aw, shucks, this is jus' great…"

"Mr. Ricochet, if there's somethin' ya need to tell me, ya can tell me."

"You might as well tell 'im now, Ricochet. He's gonna find out anyway," Kingsley said.

"Ricochet...what happened?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"I…I know ya asked me not to make a big deal over it, but when you told me about your real birthday an' when I saw how sad you were, I wanted to do somethin' to help you. Nobody should be depressed on their birthday, no matter what the reason," Ricochet admitted. "Yesterday, I went around 'n got some people to help out with gettin' the whole thing together, but I had ta keep you outta the office while we were settin' stuff up today. My plan was ta surprise you with a party, but…"

Mr. Honeycomb scratched his head. "S-Sorry about that, Sheriff. I know you'd planned out everythin' down to the last detail," he said.

"Yeah, an' now the cake's burned up," Stonewall said.

Kingsley looked at the office, which still had smoke billowing out of its windows. "And most of their stuff, I reckon," he said.

Droop-a-Long looked at the office and then at Ricochet, who looked disappointed. "Y-You went to all that trouble to throw me a birthday party, Mr. Ricochet?" he asked.

"Yeah…an' now it's ruined," Ricochet said. His ears lowered even more. "All I wanted to do was give ya a chance ta have a real birthday party an' cheer you up, as well as a chance for ya to enjoy somethin' for once."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, you go to all the trouble to do nice things for me all the time. I couldn't-no, I wouldn't-call myself your best friend if I didn't do the same. It was supposed to be the best party ever, an' now it's ruined."

Droop-a-Long smiled. "Even if things didn't go the way ya wanted, Mr. Ricochet," he started, "the fact that you cared enough to do all that to cheer me up makes me feel a whole lot better. That means more ta me than a birthday party."

Ricochet looked up at Droop-a-Long then, surprise on his face. "You mean that, Droop?"

"O' course. I'm glad ta be alive, but I'm jus' as glad to have a friend like you, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He paused when he saw Ricochet wipe his eyes. "A-Are you alright, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet nodded. "I'm fine, Droop-a-Long. A-All this stupid smoke's irritatin' my eyes," he answered. In truth, a few tears had come into his eyes when his deputy had said that, and he didn't want Droop-a-Long to see them.

"Shucks, Mr. Ricochet, you should move away from the office 'til the smoke clears out," Droop-a-Long said worriedly. "Let's head back to the saloon so you don't have to inhale it or nothin'."

Ricochet nodded. "Alright, Droopy."

* * *

 _Two and a half hours later…_

Droop-a-Long sighed deeply, staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room. It had been quite an eventful day, to say the least. He hadn't realized how long he'd been on his feet until he got in the room and practically collapsed into bed. His legs felt like jelly, and he was certain he wouldn't be moving until tomorrow morning.

Then again, his moving around was probably nothing compared to Ricochet's running around. Even the fastest sheriff in the West had to stop to take a breather. But Ricochet had insisted on heading back to the office to assess the damages after leaving the saloon and see what all needed to be repaired, as well as what could be salvaged. Droop-a-Long only hoped the damages weren't irreparable. They'd have to stay here for months if they needed to replace the interior of the office.

No sooner had he had those thoughts than he heard a loud knock on the door. "Hey Droop, open up!" Ricochet shouted. Something crashed to the floor moments later. "H-Hurry up, I can't hold these things all day!"

Droop-a-Long got up from the bed and made his way to the door. "I'm-a comin', Mr. Ricochet," he said.

When he opened the door, several boxes came crashing down on top of him. "Ooh…that hurt," Droop-a-Long muttered, rubbing his head.

"Hoppin' horn toads, are ya alright, Droop?" Ricochet made his way inside and shoved aside some of the boxes to help his deputy up.

"Yeah, one of 'em jus' hit me in the head, that's all," Droop-a-Long said, getting to his feet. "Thanks."

"No problem. I managed ta get some of our stuff from the office into these here boxes, but almost everythin' else was trashed," Ricochet replied.

"Oh, no…" Droop-a-Long groaned. "We're gonna be stuck here a while, ain't we?"

"Only 'til we get a new office, Droop. We'll get crackin' on that first thing tomorrow," Ricochet said. "The folks that I invited to your party're gonna help us out, too. They feel right upset 'bout what happened to the office."

"Oh, I gets it. But I reckon it's gonna take a lot more than those three to help us out," Droop-a-Long said, closing the door.

"There're other volunteers, too, Droop, so we'll be done with it in no time," Ricochet said. "Either way, I'm jus' glad the whole office didn't burn down."

"Yeah, me too. I wish we didn't have ta move around from office to office every few months," Droop-a-Long said.

"I know, but it's necessary," Ricochet said, picking up the boxes. "Anyways, come on over an' help me sort out these boxes."

"Sure thing, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He picked up the remaining boxes from the floor and set them on one of the beds. "I reckon this'll take a little while for ya to do on your own."

Twenty minutes later, the pair had finished unpacking most of their items. By then, there were only four boxes on the bed, and Droop-a-Long saw from the charred wrapping paper that these were presents.

The sheriff gave him a small, apologetic smile. "Sorry, Droop. Those were the only ones that survived the fire," he explained. "There were a whole lot more, too, from a lot of townspeople. At least, that's what Mr. Honeycomb told me."

"That's alright, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, turning to face the sheriff. "It was awful nice of 'em to do this for me." He picked up one of the boxes from the bed, which was a dark yellow with gold vertical stripes. "Who's it from?"

"I reckon that's from the banker, Mr. Stonewall," Ricochet said.

Droop-a-Long peeled off the wrapping paper and the bow, and quickly opened the package. He pulled out a box that fit in the palm of his hand, and he gasped as he pulled out a gold pocket watch. "Wow, this is amazin'," he said, staring at the watch in awe. "I've never had anythin' this fancy before."

Ricochet chuckled. "Keep starin' at that thing for too long, Droop, an' you'll get hypnotized," he said. "Mr. Stonewall told me that that watch has strange powers or somethin' like that."

"Oh, then I'd better be real careful when I'm usin' this thing," Droop-a-Long said, putting the watch back in the box. "I wonder what else everyone got…"

"There's only one way ta find out, Droop, and that's ta open 'em."

Droop-a-Long did so, this time taking no care to save the wrapping paper. His second present was an art kit from the printer, Mr. Inkling, which came complete with its own sketchbook. His third present was actually a set of foods from Mr. Honeycomb: a tin of peanut brittle, a set of meat pastries and a whole row of cherry tarts. Ricochet had to admit that he was a little jealous. Even he didn't get that much food for his birthday.

"Say, Mr. Ricochet, who's this last present from?" Droop-a-Long asked.

"Oh, that's my gift, Droop. Go on, open it," Ricochet said.

"Alrighty," Droop-a-Long said, pulling open the wrapping paper. "I jus' hope it's not another can 'o worms like what happened last year."

Ricochet sighed. "I keep tellin' ya that it was originally canned peanut brittle! I didn't even know they were in thar!"

Droop-a-Long opened the box, and gasped in surprise when he saw what was inside. "You…" He turned towards Ricochet, who for his part looked like a cat that had caught the canary. "You didn't!"

"I sure did." Ricochet chuckled as Droop-a-Long pulled out three videotapes from the box, his eyes wider than dinner plates. "I found 'em a while back in Youngsville when I went to that barbecue, so I asked the owner of the store to ship it to me last month. It was gonna be your Christmas gift, but I forgot 'bout it until New Years' rolled around." He smirked as Droop-a-Long tried to contain how excited he was; his tail was swishing back and forth excitedly. "I know how much you love those Mexican soaps."

"Aw, shucks, I've been waitin' for a long time to see the endin' for this; they ended it two years ago," Droop-a-Long said. He turned to face Ricochet with a wide smile. "Thank you, Mr. Ricochet. If I weren't so tired, I'd give ya a big hug."

"You're welcome, Droop-a-Long. But that ain't all I got for ya," Ricochet said, walking over to him. His hands were folded behind his back.

"What's that?"

Ricochet showed his hands, and in it was a small white box. Droop-a-Long took the top off of the small box, and came face to face with a small lemon cupcake. On top of it was a decorator that read, "Happy Birthday, Droopy" in green letters.

"Aww, shucks," Droop-a-Long muttered, taking the cupcake. "An' it's in my favorite flavor, too."

"It's not a birthday cake, or even the 'Best Lemon Cake Ever', but it's as much as I can manage. Mr. Honeycomb was nice enough to make one for ya, even though it was way past closin' time when I went to the store an' he was exhausted," Ricochet said. He smiled up at Droop-a-Long. "Happy birthday, Droop-a-Long."

Droop-a-Long smiled back, doing his best to hold back the tears that were gathering in his eyes. "Thanks, Mr. Ricochet," he replied.

"Now, how's about we watch some of those movies. A good way to celebrate, don't ya reckon?" Ricochet suggested.

Droop-a-Long nodded. "I agree, Mr. Ricochet."

It certainly wasn't the birthday celebration he'd expected. Come to think of it, he hadn't really expected anything special for his birthday at all, much less for anyone to celebrate it. But Ricochet, in his usual fashion, had proved him wrong about that. And not just him, but the townspeople as well.

No, it certainly wasn't the birthday celebration he'd expected. But that didn't mean that it wouldn't be the best one he'd ever had.

* * *

 ** _Move along, folks, you've had your fill of fluffiness for one day. :D_**

 ** _Anyway, I did my best to blend humor, drama and friendship fluffiness all in this short. I really liked writing Ricochet in this one, since it shows his empathetic side more than the other shorts. Seeing him trying to prep everything for Droop-a-Long's party, succeeding at some things and failing at others (i.e. the cards and the cake), just so he could cheer Droop-a-Long up shows not only how much he values Droop-a-Long as a friend, but also how far he'll go to cheer someone up. And even when things didn't go as Ricochet planned, Droop-a-Long still cheered him up—hence why Ricochet mentioned that the smoke "irritated" his eyes._**

 ** _Droop-a-Long's birthday was partially inspired by an OTP prompt I saw on Tumblr, but of course, this story's about the friendship between Ricochet and Droop. And Ricochet's birthday is something I made up myself; some H-B characters, such as Huckleberry Hound, Yogi Bear and Top Cat, actually do have "birthdays". I figured I'd give Ricochet one-and I think April would fit, not only because of his energetic nature, but because it has the bonus of being the month for Easter. And my headcanon is that Ricochet had to be the Easter bunny a few times :D_**

 ** _Yes, I know video cassettes and Mexican soap operas didn't exist in the West-but this is a reference to the original cartoon again, where they were making movies and mentioned TV and what not. So, hey, if Droop-a-Long likes soaps, he likes 'em._**

 ** _Another headcanon is that Ricochet and Droop-a-Long are opposites where they spend most of their energy-Ricochet's more athletic and loves sports, while Droop-a-Long's got more of a creative side to fit his more quiet nature, and likes to draw, hence why the printer gave him a sketch set for his birthday. In the modern-day AUs, he also extends this to writing, although he never, ever shares it with anybody due to his embarrassment. That'll get expanded on in a later story. *hint hint*_**

 ** _I think I wrote a good bit of jokes in this chapter, but my favorite has to be the da Vinci joke. That got a good chuckle out of everyone I read this to._**

 ** _Next short will probably one that I've been writing for a while-both of which are Ricochet focused again. One's a Ricochet/OC short with Droop-a-Long as the wingman, and the other is Droop-a-Long and Ricochet getting into the movie business. Whichever one is finished first is going to be posted~!_**

 ** _Thanks for the reviews! Constructive criticism is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	21. Short 21: Stick To It

**A/N:** Here's something different: a BroTP prompt, since I follow a blog called brotpsmattertoo on Tumblr. One of their prompts was so cute, it inspired me to write a little short based on it. And since Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long are my favorite BroTP, I had to write something for them. And this totally sounds like something Droop would do.

 **Disclaimer:** *points to other chapters for disclaimers*

* * *

 **Story 21: Stick to It**

 _Prompt: Imagine Bro A of your BrOTP feeling down in the dumps one day and Bro B, noticing this, decides to put sticky notes everywhere. Each sticky note has something Bro B adores about Bro A._

Ricochet sighed as he walked inside the office, his hat in his left hand and a look of utter defeat on his face. "Lost him again," he muttered, sitting at his desk.

Humming filled his ears. He looked up briefly to see his deputy and best friend, Droop-a-Long Coyote, sweeping the dust out of the office. "There, all done." Droop-a-Long turned around and paused when he saw Ricochet's expression. "What's wrong, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Ah, it's nothin', really, Droop-a-Long. I still haven't caught that outlaw that broke outta prison," the rabbit replied. He didn't want to explain the entire case to Droop-a-Long; he didn't want to relive the headache again.

"Aw, it's alright, Mr. Ricochet. You'll get 'im."

"An' how, when he's been out for two weeks an' word of his escapades are circulatin' all over the place?" Ricochet shot back, his head buried in his arms. "I ain't ever gonna catch 'im, Droop. He's too fast for me."

Droop-a-Long stared at him in shock. That was one sentence he never thought he'd hear. Ricochet was the fastest sheriff in the West, and very few people could challenge his speed. "Mr. Ricochet-"

"Droop-a-Long, if ya don't mind, I'd like ya to leave me alone right now," Ricochet interrupted. "I'm so frustrated that I've got a headache."

"Alright, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "I'll jus' finish up my chores."

Ricochet waved him off. "Have fun, Droopy."

Droop-a-Long couldn't help but frown when he head that. Seeing a defeated Ricochet was nothing short of worrying for Droop-a-Long, as he never went around with such a disposition, ready to give up. He sent one last glance at the sheriff, who was now leaning back in his chair, his hat falling over his eyes.

 _I've gotta do somethin' to snap Mr. Ricochet out of his funk_ , he thought. His eyes wandered towards a small stack of yellow squares resting on the sheriff's desk, and he smiled. _I think I know what I'm gonna do..._

* * *

 _A little while later..._

 _"Nnngh..."_ Ricochet groaned as he opened his eyes and sat up, rubbing his head. The nap he'd taken had helped his headache, but it had done nothing to ease his frustration. Stretching, he looked around the office and saw how tidy it was. "Hmm...Droop-a-Long must've finished already." He looked down to get his paperwork, deciding that would help, if only for a little while.

He paused, surprised to see a sticky note attached to the table. He picked it up. "'You are a go-getter'," he read. He sighed as he set the note on the table. "Well, it was a nice thought, but-"

He stopped again, noticing sticky notes on his lamp, his pencil can, and several on the wall. Frowning, he got up to remove the sticky notes, starting with the ones on his desk. He didn't know who would be putting sticky notes all over his office, but he wasn't in the mood for amusement.

It was only when he got to the wall that he noticed that these notes had similar messages. He pulled another down from the board. _'You're quick on your feet',_ it read.

 _Well, that much is true,_ he mused. He pulled off another one.

 _'You come up with creative ideas.'_

 _Can't argue with that,_ he thought. He pulled off another-and shortly after, a few more.

 _'You always cheer people up when they're down.'_

 _'You're passionate about helping others.'_

 _'You're not a quitter. You never give up, even if it hurts.'_

 _'You're one of the most loyal friends anyone can have.'_

Despite himself, Ricochet couldn't help looking at the ones he'd pulled from the desk, seeing what they had to say.

 _'You're one of the best sheriffs I know.'_

 _'You admit to making mistakes.'  
_

 _'You go above and beyond for your friends.'  
_

By the time he was finished, he had a smile on his face. "Aw, shucks...that's right nice of someone to do this," he said. "But who could it be?"

"Eh-heh...s-sorry about the mess, Mr. Ricochet..."

Ricochet turned towards Droop-a-Long, who had his hat off and looked down at Ricochet, his green eyes filled with worry. "You wrote these, Droop?"

"Yeah...I used up all of your sticky notes, too," the coyote said. "I saw how upset ya were earlier, so I took the sticky notes an' wrote out what I admire most of ya. Ta be honest, I don't know how I got that idea...it jus' struck me while I was doin' the chores. There're some more in the kitchen, too. I was gonna cover the upstairs with 'em, but I ran out of sticky notes...an' outta things to say."

"Droop-a-Long...you really had all this to say about me?" Ricochet asked, surprised.

Droop-a-Long nodded. "If ya don't want 'em, I understand..."

"Why would you think I wouldn't want these?" Ricochet started, looking down at the sticky notes. "This is one of the kindest things you've ever done for me. I...I don't really know what to say, Droop, other than thank you."

Droop-a-Long smiled when he saw Ricochet's smile. He knew then that it was a real smile, as it reached his eyes. "You're welcome, Mr. Ricochet," he said. "You can keep 'em for future reference, in case ya need a reminder to stick to a case."

Ricochet sighed and shook his head. Droop-a-Long cracked a smile. "Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said.

"Actually, you could've," Ricochet said, but he couldn't help but laugh. "But I'll keep that in mind though." He sent a warm smile to his best friend. "Thanks, Droopy."

"Don't mention it, Mr. Ricochet."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Yeah, I know I could've resisted that pun. But I can't help being as dorky as Droop-a-Long :D**_

 _ **I think I'm getting better at writing fluff-probably because I'm taking a break from writing nothing but angst, haha. This short reminds me of the first few shorts I was writing at the beginning of this story-short, but cute. The next few shorts won't be this short, though.**_

 _ **Next short...actually, I don't quite know what short I'm going to do for the next short. I guess whichever short is finished next is going to be the next chapter.**_

 _ **Constructive criticism is much appreciated!**_

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	22. Short 22: Snow Day

**A/N:** Oh, hey, a double update! :D

Since the holidays are upon us, I figured I would do something a little holiday themed-well, not exactly _holiday_ -themed, but _seasonal_ -themed. This short's inspired by a prompt I submitted to the blog brotpsmattertoo, where I can find a good bit of friendship prompts. You're free to use it if you wish!

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long.

* * *

 **Short 22: Snow Day**

 **Prompt:** Imagine your BrOTP enjoying the first snow day of the year.

Bonus points if the place they live in doesn't get a lot of snow.

Double bonus if one of the members hates the cold, but decides to go outside for the other's sake.

"Mr. Ricochet! Mr. Ricochet!"

Ricochet jumped up from his desk, his hand on his holster. "What's goin' on, Droop-a-Long?" he asked. "Is there an outlaw on the loose?"

"No."

"A bank robber escapin' the bank?"

"Nuh-uh."

"Then if it ain't any of those, what's got you so energetic?"

"It's snowin' outside, Mr. Ricochet!"

Ricochet rolled his eyes and groaned, sitting in the chair. "Ugh...I should've known the weatherman would be right about that..."

"You don't sound excited, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said.

"Of course I'm not excited, Droop-a-Long! I hate snow!" Ricochet said. "Actually, I hate cold weather in general. I feel like my bones are gonna lock up an' the warmth's bein' sucked right outta me when I'm out thar. An' plus, I always get sick durin' the winter!" He looked up as his deputy was getting ready to go outside, dressed in a dark blue jacket, wearing red earmuffs and a blue winter hat with ear flaps. "Why're you so fascinated with cold weather anyway?"

"Well...I don't mind hot weather, but sometimes it's too much." He offered up a smile. "But I love the cold. There are more fun things ta do in it, an' I love the snow." He took a look outside, smiling as he saw several kids running outside to scoop up the snow that had gathered on the ground and toss it in the air. "We never have snow 'round these parts, so whenever I see it, I can't help but be a little excitable. U-uh, you wouldn't mind if I went outside, would ya, Mr. Ricochet?"

Ricochet sighed. "Well, seein' as you're all geared up and ready to go, I guess it's alright," he said.

Droop-a-Long's smile could've lit up a Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Really. But be prepared when-"

He didn't get much to say much after that, for Droop-a-Long ran out the door with a cheer. Ricochet walked over to the door, shaking his head as he shut it in order to keep a draft from coming in. "Never did understand Droop's enthusiasm for snow. It's like sand, but cold." He sat at his desk, stacking his paperwork into a neat pile. "Now, this is how I like to spend a snow day."

* * *

Droop-a-Long was outside on the front porch, rolling a large mound of snow into an oval. Whistling a familiar holiday tune, he then pushed that mound onto a smaller snowball, before patting it down with more snow and smoothing it out.

"Howdy, Deputy Droop-a-Long!"

Droop-a-Long turned around to face the chorus of voices that called his name. He smiled when he saw the schoolchildren, all of whom were dressed in their warmest winter gear. "Howdy, kids. Whatcha up to?"

"Oh, we were gonna go sledding," one of the boys said. He looked at the small sculpture that Droop-a-Long was building and then looked at the coyote. "Are ya buildin' a snowman?"

"Yup. I'm buildin' a snow version of Mr. Ricochet," he explained. "It's much smaller than a regular snowman, 'cause the sheriff's so short."

"What are ya gonna use for his ears? Ya can't forget his ears!"

"I'm thinkin' on that..."

"Hey, how about we help you out, Mr. Droop-a-Long? We know lots about buildin' snowmen!"

Droop-a-Long made to protest, but seeing the pleading looks of the children weakened his resolve. He looked at them with a resigned smile. "Alright. An' afterwards, I'll make some hot cocoa for all of you," he replied.

Everyone cheered loudly, and Droop-a-Long couldn't help but grin. "Alright, kids, let's get ta work!"

* * *

 _Thirty minutes later..._

Ricochet had just finished his eighth page of his paperwork when he heard thuds against the walls of the office. He looked up from his stack of work with a start. "What the-"

Another loud thud hit the door, and someone shouted in surprise and pain. Ricochet jumped up then, swinging over the desk, and flinging open the door. "What's goin' on?"

A snowball to the face answered his question. Before he had time to say anything, he was pelted head to toe with snowballs. He sputtered and coughed, wiping the specks of ice off of him.

Cheerful laughter filled his ears, and Droop-a-Long chuckled. "Oh, nothin' but a little fun, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

Ricochet glared at Droop-a-Long. "You did all that to get me outside?"

"Well, we were just havin' a little snowball fight," Droop-a-Long explained, "an' one of the kids wanted you to come outside an' join us."

"Yeah! Can you come out and play with us, Sheriff Ricochet?" A small boy asked.

"Well, I'm sorry, kids, but I ain't fond of snow," Ricochet answered. "Plus, I've got work to do."

Droop-a-Long's mouth curled into a small frown. "But you've been workin' for several hours, Mr. Ricochet. You should take a little break," he said.

"I'm fine, Droop-a-Long. No need to go around an' get soakin' wet an' cold," Ricochet said, waving him off. He turned and walked back into the office. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some more paperwork to sort out."

"Awww..." The children groaned unhappily.

"Don't worry, kids. I'll play with ya 'til it gets too cold, alright?" Droop-a-Long offered. "We'll go sleddin' up in the hills next." He looked up at Ricochet. "I won't stay out too late, Mr. Ricochet."

"You go on an' have fun, Droop. I'm stayin' by the phone just in case," Ricochet said. "Besides, you won't find me two feet near a pile o' snow."

"Well, alright, then. Come on, kids," Droop-a-Long said, leading the children away from the office. "We'd best go now before it snows even more."

Ricochet watched his deputy leave, and then shut the door. "Better go an' dry off before I catch a cold," he muttered, heading for the washroom.

* * *

 _Forty minutes later..._

Ricochet heard the cheerful shouts coming from the other end of town. He peered out the window and saw Droop-a-Long and the assembled group of schoolchildren, dusting snow off of their clothes and carrying sleds. They were all laughing and one of them was scooping snow from the street and dumping it on them. In less than a minute, a miniature snowball fight erupted in the street.

Ricochet sighed, but not out of irritation this time. "Shucks, that kinda looks like fun," he said. "Can't do that in the summer, though..." He sat back at his desk with a small sigh. "Reckon they'll be comin' in for some hot cocoa in a little while."

He attempted to sit back to do his work, but the sounds of laughter from outside made that impossible. He sighed out of both irritation and resignation. "Well...ya know what they say. If ya can't beat 'em, join 'em," he remarked. He got down from the chair, and made his way upstairs. For the first time all day, a smile came onto his face-a crafty, mischievous smile.

Boy, was Droop-a-Long in for a surprise.

* * *

"Deputy Droop-a-Long! You can't keep those kids out here all day! They'll catch cold!" someone shouted from the inside of the store.

"Don't worry, ma'am. I'll make sure they get home," Droop-a-Long said. He looked down at the schoolchildren. "Sorry, kids, but we'll have ta end our snow day here for now. You've been out here for a while." When he saw their despondent faces, he gave them a small smile. "How's about we go an' have ourselves that hot cocoa?"

The children barely had time to answer before a snowball beaned Droop-a-Long clean in the face. Some of them stared at him with wide eyes, while one of the boys turned around to see who had thrown it. Standing ten feet away was Ricochet, who was tossing another snowball in the air. His smirk was mischievous.

"Well...reckon you'll have to get through me ta get your hot cocoa, Deputy," he called.

"Wow, the sheriff actually decided to come out and play!" one of the kids cried, and the whole lot of them cheered.

Droop-a-Long wiped the snow from his face, and looked up. His green eyes widened in surprise and disbelief. "M-Mr. Ricochet? What are ya doin' out here?" he said.

"Well...I was gettin' right cramped in that thar office, an' I decided to stretch a bit," Ricochet answered. "Plus, this stuff's gonna be around for a while, so might as well make the most of it. So...are ya up for the challenge, or not?"

Droop-a-Long couldn't help but smile at that. He knew the rabbit well enough to know when he'd had a change of heart about something. "Well, then...guess we'll have ta take 'im up on that challenge, right kids?"

"Alright!"

"We actually get to have a snowball fight with the sheriff!"

"...I reckon one more wouldn't hurt."

Droop-a-Long scooped up some snow and made it into several snowballs. His smirk was just as mischievous as he looked at the sheriff. "I've gotta warn ya, Mr. Ricochet. I'm a pretty good snowball fighter."

Another snowball hit him in the face, and the children next to him laughed. "You were sayin', Droop?" Ricochet called, a laugh in his voice.

Chuckling, Droop-a-Long wiped the snow off of his face and then gathered some snow into his hands. "Oh, it's on now, Mr. Ricochet!"

With those words, another snowball fight quickly erupted in the street, and the squeals, cheers and laughter could've been heard from a mile away.

* * *

It would be a little after four in the afternoon when Ricochet and Droop-a-Long were back in the office. The former was wrapped up in a blanket, shivering and sniffling, a bowl of hot soup in front of him. The latter was at the stove, mixing together some hot cocoa mix in a pot of hot milk.

A loud sneeze filled the room, and Ricochet groaned. "An' now ya see why I hate snow, Droop-a-Long..."

"You need to eat some of that soup, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered, pouring some hot cocoa in a mug. "Your cold will get worse at this rate." He walked over and put the cup in front of Ricochet. "Hopefully, my ma's Firecracker soup'll knock that cold right outta you."

"T-Thanks, Droop," Ricochet replied. "I could use this..."

"No problem." Droop-a-Long looked at the sheriff worriedly as he picked up his bowl of soup. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet..."

"Sorry for what?"

Droop-a-Long's ears lowered. "I kinda goaded ya into goin' out, even though I knew you hated snow," he replied slowly. "An' now I've got ya sick with a cold."

"Droop-a-Long, that's not true. You didn't goad me into it. I came outside on my own," Ricochet said.

"Yeah, mostly 'cause I was distracting you from doin' your work," Droop-a-Long said.

"Distraction or not, I did have some fun out there in the snow. In fact, I think the reason I don't go out in it much is 'cause I overdo it."

"As in, you have a little too much fun?" Droop-a-Long inquired. When Ricochet nodded, he nodded in understanding. "I see..."

"I still hate the cold, though. Ain't nothin' gonna change my mind on that," Ricochet answered. "But I can handle it to an extent, though."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Droop-a-Long pointed to Ricochet's soup. "You'd better eat some of that soup, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet sighed. "Alright, alright," he said. He took a bite and he started coughing, his eyes watering rapidly. Clearing his throat, he asked, "What did ya put in that soup, Droop-a-Long?! That stuff set my throat on fire!"

"My ma's Firecracker soup is made with the hottest peppers out here," Droop-a-Long answered. "She said it usually clears folks up after a few bites."

Ricochet cleared his throat again. "I-I can see why she said that...but even for me, that's too hot, Droop-a-Long!"

"Sorry, Mr. Ricochet. I put in more than normal 'cause of how you usually are with hot food," Droop-a-Long answered. "You can take two more bites of that an' that should clear you up."

"Sure thing, Droop." Ricochet sighed as he took another bite, his eyes watering over again. _Reckon anymore after that would kill me..._

 **The End**

* * *

 ** _Wow, another feel good chapter from me? I know many of you are like, "What happened to the Iheart we know?!"_**

 ** _Don't worry, folks, she's still around. She's just warming up for another takeover, that's all *evil laugh*_**

 ** _I'm nearly done with my final project; once I finish my final exam, I'll be finished for the semester and then I'll move on to other stories, although this one will be still be updated sporadically._**

 ** _I'm not sure what the next few shorts will be, but I think the next few will be warm ups to a "special event" that I've been planning along with my friend Vulaan Kulaas. I won't spoil...but all I can say is that if you thought the "Protector" arc was dramatic, you'll be in for a major surprise for what happens in this special._**

 ** _Constructive criticism from you guys is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	23. Short 23: I'm Right Here

**A/N:** This was inspired by a post from Tumblr that I reblogged a little while back. I wrote this out on paper yesterday, and decided to type it out. I wrote this partly as a vent piece, but I was also in the mood for some angsty stuff as well. While it's got Droop-a-Long's POV, it's still Ricochet-focused.

And yeah, more angsty friendship fluff featuring Ricochet. The thought came in suddenly, and I couldn't help myself. For time reference, this ficlet takes place a few months after the "Protector" arc.

 **Disclaimer:** I didn't own Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long last year. What makes you think I own them _this_ year?

* * *

 **Story 23: I'm Right Here**

Droop-a-Long thought he was imagining the sound that came from the hallway-a cracking, choked sob, followed by a small whimper. When a louder one came from the hallway, he rose from the comfort of his warm bed and moved slowly towards the door. He wasn't sure if he was mishearing things, but it sounded like a woman crying. Perhaps someone was outside crying, sitting on the steps of the office; it wasn't the first time something like that had happened. Even so, he found it odd that Ricochet wasn't taking care of it. He had incredibly good hearing and was, for the most part, a very light sleeper, often awaking at the slightest sound.

He opened the door to his room and turned to head to the door, only to hear the sob again. He stopped in his tracks when he realized that it was coming from right behind him.

He turned to look behind him, and what he saw woke him up fast. Ricochet was leaning against the wall, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head buried in his arms. His body heaved with each sob he made, and he curled himself further into a small ball, desperate to control himself.

Droop-a-Long stared at him, eyes wide. What was Ricochet doing out here, crying in the middle of the night, no less? His mind went back to the last time he'd done this, and he frowned. _Did he have another nightmare about losin' me?_ he thought. That must've been it; it was about the only thing he could think of that could make Ricochet break this bad.

But that incident with Sam Jose had happened ages ago-a few years ago, to be exact. He'd assured Ricochet that he had nothing to worry about, and that he could rest easy since he promised that he'd never do anything that dangerous again, as it had made him nearly sick with worry. So why was he out here, crying like this?

His mind then went to the last time he'd seen the sheriff cry like this, shuddering like a leaf and struggling to compose himself, and it came to him almost immediately-it'd been eight months ago, when he'd been found by Ricochet in Youngsville after he'd narrowly escaped the jaws of death again. Ricochet had lost his composure then too-it was then that Droop-a-Long had learned of the suffering his friend had gone through during those few days. He'd lost hope that he'd get justice for Droop-a-Long due to Dave and Chuck's actions, and he'd felt as though he'd broken his word to protect his best friend from people like them. Droop-a-Long had tried to comfort him as best as he could, but he'd noted to himself that it'd take more than one pep talk to get his friend back to normal.

And just from looking at him, his hunch had been right.

His expression becoming sympathetic, Droop-a-Long walked over to the sheriff, got down on his knees and pulled him into a hug. Almost immediately, Ricochet's shuddering slowed. He uncurled himself and looked up at Droop-a-Long, who looked down at him. Sympathy and understanding were present in his green eyes.

"D-Droopy," Ricochet started, his voice hoarse. He wiped his eyes and sniffled. "I-"

"It's alright, Mr. Ricochet. I'm not gone, or missin' or anythin' like that. I'm right here," Droop-a-Long answered, cutting off what was surely going to be an apology. "There's no need ta apologize. I ain't gonna judge ya for cryin' in the middle of the night. If you need to cry, then cry. If ya need ta vent, then vent. But for goodness' sakes, don't do it alone."

Just like that, tears filled his best friend's eyes. "Droop-a-Long..."

"It's okay, Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said as Ricochet wrapped his arms around his upper back and buried his face in Droop-a-Long's fur. He swallowed back a sob of his own and returned the hug. "I-It's gonna be okay..."

From there, Ricochet's emotions flowed like a burst dam. He told Droop-a-Long of his nightmare, where he'd been attacked by Dave and Chuck, who had managed to break out of prison. When he'd woken up from the attack, he'd discovered his deputy missing, a trail of blood leading outside of the office. The end of the trail led to Droop-a-Long's mutilated body, riddled with holes and fur scraped off. Upon waking up from that, he'd rushed to the bathroom before his dinner had painted his bed, the detail so vivid and gruesome he couldn't take it.

Droop-a-Long answered that with, "It's alright. I'm right here."

He then told Droop-a-Long how he'd nearly killed Dave in rage and revenge for what he'd done, but didn't follow through with it when Jeb had reminded him of Droop-a-Long's selflessness, despite everything people did to him. He'd barely been stopped from doing the unthinkable, and he hadn't told Droop-a-Long because he didn't want him to hate him.

Droop-a-Long answered that with, "It's okay. I understand."

He told Droop-a-Long that he'd been having nightmares like this for several months, but didn't tell him or Jeb about them because he didn't want them to worry. He'd tried to keep it to himself and keep going as he always did, but several nights in a row, in the comfort of his room so that nobody could see, he let the mask fall and just broke into tears.

Droop-a-Long answered that with, "It's alright. I get it."

He finally told Droop-a-Long that he loved him like a brother and couldn't stand the thought of him getting hurt or killed. It was the reason he was so protective of him, why he always looked out for him. He'd almost lost him twice, and he couldn't manage if he'd lost him permanently due to his failure to protect him.

Droop-a-Long answered that with, "You're like a brother ta me, Ricochet. I know jus' how that feels."

And when he'd finally said those things, he just cried. Droop-a-Long didn't do anything to stop it; he held his brother close and hugged him tight, willing himself to stay strong for him.

They remained that way for a long time, until Ricochet's sobbing had finally, finally ceased. Hiccuping, Ricochet removed himself from Droop-a-Long, and finally opened his eyes, which were red from crying so much.

"Are ya alright now, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked.

Ricochet nodded, and sighed. "T-Thanks for bein' here, Droop-a-Long," he said, sniffling. "I-I needed someone to talk to 'bout this. I wasn't e-even gonna tell ya about any of it, to be honest."

"Ricochet, if ya didn't say anythin', you would've exploded," Droop-a-Long explained. "You know you can tell me anythin'; I'm willin' to listen to ya an' your rants. Like I said, you're like another brother ta me an' I'll do anythin' for ya if you asked me." He smiled. "How's about I fix ya somethin' hot to drink so you can calm down?"

"I-I think I'd like that." For the first time that night, Ricochet smiled, one full of gratitude and relief. "I appreciate it a lot, Droop," he said. He then gave the coyote another hug. "Thanks. Thanks for everythin'."

Droop-a-Long returned the hug, giving him a pat on the head. "You're welcome, Ricochet," he said. "Now come on. Let's get ya that drink."

 **The End**

* * *

 ** _It's always nice to have someone to comfort you through the bad times, especially when you're dealing with things that you don't want to share with everyone._**

 ** _The post that inspired this was about how important it is to normalize platonic affection between friends, which I agree with. Regarding Ricochet and Droop-a-Long in "Blazin' Trails", they have a close, brotherly bond, hence why stuff like Droop-a-Long petting Ricochet behind the ears, or Ricochet coming to Droop-a-Long for comfort isn't weird for either of them. To summarize Vulaan Kulaas, the two share a powerful friendship, iron bond :D_**

 ** _Next short probably won't be this angsty, but who knows for sure? I do have a number of shorts that I need to finish, some of which are just sitting on my hard drive gathering dust. It may one of those, or an entirely new short, like the last few were._**

 ** _Constructive criticism is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	24. Short 24: In Good Hands

**A/N:** I've been reading Vulaan Kulaas' fics lately, and this idea was inspired by reading chapter 2 of "Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond" over again. And while this chapter's focused Ric and Droop this time around, Ricochet's not the one with the angst ball this time. I bet he'd be very glad to hear that XD

 **Disclaimer** : It goes without saying that I don't own Ricochet and Droop-a-Long, guys.

* * *

 **Story 24: In Good Hands**

Ricochet thought he'd imagined hearing the strangled cry that came from the other side of the office. He didn't get out of bed, allowing the rumble of thunder and the pounding of rain on the roof to draw him back to sleep. He was too comfortable, and besides, his deputy could see what the problem was-

There was a loud thump, followed by a shout of, "Where is she?! _Bring her_ _back_!"

Ricochet got up then, throwing off the covers and racing down the hall to his deputy's room. He threw open the door and ran inside. "Droop! Droopy, what's-"

"W-Where is she?" came a low, angry whisper. " _Where is she_? You'd better tell me where she is, or you're gonna be sorry!"

Ricochet turned around, and what he saw made his eyes widen in horror. His deputy was slumped over on the floor, shuddering and struggling to crawl. His green eyes were full of anger, but Ricochet could see how desperate he was...as well as unfocused. Droop-a-Long turned over to him, fury in his eyes. He said one word, which was dripping with venomous fury. _"You..."_

"Droopy!" Ricochet raced over to him. "Droopy, are you-"

Strong, meaty hands closed around Ricochet's throat, stealing his voice. Ricochet tried to pull his deputy's paws off of him, strangling for air. Droop-a-Long brought the sheriff to his face level, his fangs bared as he snarled angrily.

"D-Droop..." He coughed. He didn't know what was causing his best friend to act like this, but he had to get through to him before it was too late. "I-It's me..."

"I know who you are, an' how dare you ask iffin' I'm alright?! Of course I ain't alright!" Droop-a-Long yelled, his voice harsh. _"You're the reason I'm in here!"_

Ricochet pried at Droop-a-Long's claws, which were digging into his throat. "Droop-a-Long, l-let go before ya kill me!" he said.

Droop-a-Long remained still for a few moments more, and Ricochet saw black spots in his vision. Suddenly, rudely, Droop-a-Long dropped him like a sack of bricks, and Ricochet coughed loudly as he gulped down air. He rubbed his throat as he did so, feeling a few marks along the center of his throat. _Thank goodness he didn't go through with it...otherwise he would've killed me for sure..._

He heard a thump, and turned to find the coyote slumped against the bed, panting. It was as though he were exhausted. This time, Ricochet kept his distance. "Droop-a-Long?"

"Go 'way...I don't wanna talk to you anyhow," Droop-a-Long said tiredly. The anger was still present in his voice, but Ricochet could hear the regret in his voice. That meant that his friend was still there. The Droop-a-Long he knew wouldn't try to strangle him to death for no reason.

"Droop-"

"I can't talk ta nobody right now." The coyote tried to get to his feet, but he only managed one step before he pitched forward.

Being quicker on his feet, Ricochet caught him before he hit the floor. "Droop-a-Long, hold still. Where do ya think you're goin'?"

"Where do ya think? I've been tryin' to find her ever since I got here. I-I've gotta find Denise..."

Ricochet paused in answering, noticing immediately that Droop-a-Long's back was soaked with sweat. "Droop, it's alright," he said softly. He placed a hand to his friend's sweaty forehead, and grimaced. _No wonder he's out of it. He's got a fever, and he's havin a nightmare_ _,_ he thought. "Droop, why don't you tell me what this is about?"

"You know darn well what this is about," Droop-a-Long snarled. Ricochet had never heard his deputy speak with such vehemence. "T-The marshals...those heartless monsters ya work for took her away..."

Ricochet's eyes widened at the mention of that. _The marshals...he couldn't possibly mean-_

"Now let go 'o me. I've gotta find her before they kill her!" Droop-a-Long said, trying to twist out of Ricochet's grip.

Ricochet held onto him; he didn't know the full details of this nightmare, but he wasn't about to let Droop-a-Long go anywhere in his feverish sleepwalk. "The marshals haven't done anythin' like that, Droop-a-Long," he said. "I'm tellin' you, Denise is alright. Now come on, it's back to bed for you." Once he was sure Droop-a-Long stopped squirming, he carefully dragged the coyote into a sitting position, and then slung Droop-a-Long's left arm over his shoulder. "Droop, can ya stand?"

"Ugh...I-I think so," the coyote groaned. "Everythin's spinnin'…m-movin' around made it worse..."

"You'll be fine soon, Droopy. Come on, I'll help ya up."

It took some effort, but Ricochet managed to get Droop-a-Long into bed. "Here, let me get that offa ya," Ricochet muttered, taking the damp nightshirt off of Droop-a-Long's body. He tossed it on the side, and then helped the coyote lay down on the pillows. He looked down at his deputy, his expression full of concern and worry. "You've got a fever, Droop-a-Long. You're gonna sit here in this bed an' rest for the next few days."

"But...my job...Denise...Mr. Ricochet...I can't stay here-"

"Let me worry 'bout your job," Ricochet answered, putting the covers on Droop-a-Long when he saw how bad he was shivering. "You focus on yourself for once, alright?"

"Y-Yessir, Mr. Sergeant, sir. I-It's so c-cold...an' so hot at the same time..."

"Your fever's makin' ya that way. Hang on, I'll bring ya a towel to keep you cool," Ricochet said. He raced out of the room, heading for the kitchen and grabbing a white metal bowl. After filling it with cold water, he carefully made his way back, pausing by the washroom to get a towel.

After putting the bowl on the nightstand, he dipped the towel in cold water and wrung it out, then climbed into the coyote's bed to place it on his forehead. "I'll be right here ta help ya, alright?" He gently put his hand on the top of Droop-a-Long's head, rubbing between his ears. It was something that usually helped him sleep, and right now, Droop-a-Long needed it more than he did. "Just try to get some rest."

"I-I'll try...but I'm still worried 'bout her," Droop-a-Long muttered. His voice became slurred as he started drifting off. "Gotta get ta Ricochet...an' tell 'im..."

Ricochet watched as his friend fell into an uneasy sleep, hating how vulnerable he was. Droop-a-Long, who normally kept his wits about him in even the worst situations, was reduced to a terrified, desperate wreck because of both his fever and this nightmare, almost killing him in the process. And he knew just what he meant by marshals—the feared species marshals that came after people and animals for the crime of intermixing. He'd heard of those people and the cruel things they'd do to the people they'd captured. Droop-a-Long had told Ricochet of how Denise had run into one of them before, and the thought of them being found out had terrified both of them, but not nearly as bad as it had scared Droop-a-Long. Both of them would be separated, possibly for years, and the tortures they'd endure would change them forever. Just the thought of either of them suffering like that worried Ricochet as well.

Droop-a-Long let out a low, painful groan, and Ricochet continued to rub his head. "Don't worry, Droopy. You're both in good hands." He settled next to Droop-a-Long, still lightly rubbing his head. Most people would've thought twice about sleeping next to someone with a fever, but Ricochet wasn't about to leave Droop-a-Long in this state, not by a long shot. "That I can promise ya."

* * *

It would be late that morning when Droop-a-Long awoke, pain shooting through his head. The skin under his fur was clammy and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself in a multitude of blankets. "Ugh...I don't feel too great..." he muttered. "Need ta get an aspirin or somethin'."

He slowly rose from the comfort of his bed, only to pause when he felt something resting against his arm. He turned to his right, and his eyes widened when he saw Ricochet there, sleeping. In his hand was a washcloth, and Droop-a-Long could tell that it was moist.

"What...what's he doin' in here?" Droop-a-Long muttered. He was tired to think, so he nudged the rabbit awake. "Mr. Ricochet? Mr. Ricochet?"

"Hmm?" Ricochet's eyes shot open immediately and he sat up quickly, only to wince slightly at the sudden action. Leaning across the bed for that long amount of time had caused his back to lock up. He stretched, feeling a few bones back into place.

"Are you alright, Mr. Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked worriedly.

"S'alright, Droop. I jus' slept in the wrong position for too long," Ricochet said, pausing to yawn. "Plus, I fell asleep a little while ago." He looked up at Droop-a-Long, still blinking to get the sleep out of his eyes. "Are ya feelin' alright?"

"Not really," Droop-a-Long replied. "I'm a bit cold, an' feel teribly achy, too. Plus, my head hurts." He offered a small smile. "But it's nothin' a little work can't-"

"No, Droop-a-Long. You're not goin' out here, workin' in your condition," Ricochet interrupted, the tiredness gone from his eyes. His face was set into a frown, but there was no hiding the concern. "Last night, you had a nightmare, not to mention you're sick with a fever."

"But Mr. Ricochet-"

"Droop-a-Long, I came in here because you were so outta it, you almost hurt yourself. You were havin' a nightmare and you were feverish," Ricochet explained. "I stayed in here to help you rest, an' keep your temperature down."

"...you heard my nightmare?"He paused when he saw some red marks on the base of Ricochet's throat. "W-Wait a minute, Mr. Ricochet...what are those?" He stared at them closely, and then his eyes widened. "Did someone try to strangle you last night?!" A rare surge of protective anger came over him. "Who did it? Who did that, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Droop-a-Long, y-you don't wanna-"

"I do wanna know! If someone attacked ya while I was knocked out with a fever, then I need to find 'im!" Droop-a-Long urged. "Who hurt ya? I swear, I'll-"

"Y-You did, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet admitted slowly.

Droop-a-Long stared at him in stunned silence. "M-Me? Mr. Ricochet, that's not possible-"

"Last night, when ya had your nightmare...you thought I was one of those marshals. I came to get ya to wake up, and you...y-you seized me by the throat, Droop-a-Long." Ricochet sighed when he saw the dawning horror on his friend's face. He hadn't wanted to tell him this, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to the coyote. "I don't know what caused ya to do that, but if you hadn't let go of me, I..."

"Oh, no...Mr. Ricochet, I'm so sorry!" Droop-a-Long blurted. He sounded close to tears. "I-I nearly killed someone in my dream, an' I managed to stop myself there, but..." He shuddered. "I-I can't believe I almost did that..."

"It's alright, Droop-a-Long. It's alright," Ricochet said. "I'm relieved that you weren't angry at me or somethin'."

"Don't say that. That doesn't make me feel any better at all," Droop-a-Long said. He sniffled. "I nearly killed you 'cause I thought you were the guy who took Denise away. I-Iffin' you hadn't said anythin'...I would've woken up an' realized I-I'd-" That was all he could say before sobs closed his throat.

"It's not your fault," Ricochet said. "What happened last night wasn't your fault. I know that wasn't you, Droop-a-Long. You'd never kill me, jus' like how I'd never kill you." He pulled out a neckerchief from his vest pocket and handed it to the coyote. "There ain't no need to keep blamin' yourself for it, or to apologize. I forgive ya. So don't cry, alright?"

Droop-a-Long sniffled, and then he nodded as he wiped away his tears. "A-Alright..." He blew his nose and then sighed. "T-Thanks, Mr. Ricochet..."

Ricochet nodded. "It's alright, Droop. You were terrified and angry," he said. His eyes narrowed in concern. "You were that scared for Denise, weren't ya?"

Droop-a-Long nodded, his expression downcast. "I-in my dream, the sergeant who was in charge of me told me that she hadn't been taken from me, an' that I needed to rest for the next few days. But...how was I supposed to believe that when I saw her being dragged away in my dream? She was so scared, Mr. Ricochet, an' the thought of losin' her to people like them..." He shuddered. "I pray that never happens."

"So do I, Droop," Ricochet answered. "I care about Denise, too, 'specially since she's my former girlfriend. I wouldn't want anythin' to happen to her, either." He then moved over so that he was sitting in front of Droop-a-Long. "But Droop-a-Long, those marshals are already losin' their positions across the state due to people learnin' what they've been doin'. From what my brother Roger told me, they're getting rid of that whole program."

"They are?" Droop-a-Long asked, hope in his eyes.

Ricochet nodded. "You don't have to worry about any of 'em comin' after you or Denise anytime soon, Droop-a-Long. And if one of 'em even tries, I'll set 'em straight," he said. "Ain't nobody hurtin' you or Denise, 'specially over somethin' like that."

Droop-a-Long couldn't help but be touched. "Aww...thanks, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. "And thanks for bein' by my side while I was out of it. I appreciate it...an' I-I'm sorry."

Ricochet smiled. "No problem, Droopy. I know you would've done the same if I was. And like I said, there's no need to apologize." He got down from the bed. "Now, you get some rest, an' I'll take care of things around the office. And I mean it when I say that I'll toss ya right back in here if I catch ya doin' any type of work."

"...I think I got the message the last time you did that, Mr. Ricochet."

 **The End**

* * *

 ** _This was part of a small short collection called "Through and Through", which I wrote after I read several prompts on Tumblr, and this one was long enough to be a short chapter._**

 ** _The species marshals is something I came up with, and as described above are evil people who use the "law" to do horrible things to people such as separate them for intermixing. They came from an older story I did a while back, where Droop-a-Long and Denise almost get caught by them. They may appear in a future story, but I haven't come up with the whole plot yet._**

 ** _I actually don't have much else to say here, other than friends can and always will inspire you :D_**

 ** _I did say the last time that the next chapter wouldn't be so angsty, but with me, you can't tell. I've been working on other stories, though, so this won't be the only story getting updated._**

 ** _As usual, constructive criticism is most appreciated!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	25. Short 25: On Notice

**A/N:** You know, for a while I thought I wasn't going to get back to this story...or any of my other fics because of the stress I had with school and stuff at home. Thankfully, with help from my friends and family, I got my act together and I'm doing a lot better juggling my personal life, and I feel ready to start writing things again. And what better way to do that than to put up a new chapter of _Blazin' Trails?_ This chapter's a romance that's not focused on Droopy for once. I figured that I'd write something a little lighthearted after putting up those last two shorts, although knowing how I write this is the warm-up to something saddening.

After putting up a small clip from "Rapid Romance", I saw a prompt on Tumblr and I immediately thought of Droop-a-Long, so I had to write it down. I posted this on my Google+ community, A Fistful of Carrots (which, as its name implies, is a fan community devoted to Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long stuff), but I figured it was good enough to share with y'all. :)

 **Disclaimer** : I still don't own Ricochet and Droop-a-Long after all this time, folks.

* * *

 **Story 25: On Notice**

"Be honest with me here, Droop. Does my fur look straight?" Ricochet asked.

"Yes, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered.

"An' my shirt? An' my badge, too, right?"

"Yessir, Mr. Ricochet."

"Hmm...you think I should dust my hat off? I haven't cleaned this thing in a month an' it's caked with dust!" Ricochet pulled off his hat to show it to his deputy. He paused, then took a whiff of it and shuddered. "An' it smells too."

"I'll take care of it before yer meetin', Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long answered, taking the sheriff's hat. "Shouldn't take long, though."

"Thanks, Droop-a-Long. I'm-a probably hop in the bath, too. I sure don't wanna smell like somethin' awful when Bunny Hug-"

Droop-a-Long almost dropped the hat. "Y-You're meeting Bunny Hug?" he asked.

Ricochet's expression turned sheepish. Droop-a-Long's mouth curled into a frown. "Mr. Ricochet..."

"Well...I might've forgotten to tell ya," Ricochet answered finally, scratching the back of his head.

"More like ya didn't want to," Droop-a-Long grumbled.

"Droopy, don't be like that," Ricochet said. "It's jus'...well, she sent me a letter last week an' said she was comin' to see me 'bout somethin' important."

"But I thought she broke off all contact with you after she married that outlaw feller," Droop-a-Long said.

"She did, but somethin' must've come up for her to talk to me now," Ricochet said. "Either way, I couldn't turn down her request, Droop-a-Long, 'specially since she's a woman."

"Well, I wish you'd told me before so's I wouldn't get caught off-guard," Droop-a-Long said. "But I reckon I'll get the office tidy an' all. That way it'll look nice for when she comes over."

Ricochet smiled. "That's the spirit, Droopy," he said, clapping the coyote on the arm. "Now you do that whilst I finish gettin' ready."

Droop-a-Long nodded, but as soon as the sheriff left, he couldn't help but mutter, "It's like I always say: when there's perfume in the air, I can smell trouble."

And he knew there'd be nothing but that with Bunny Hug.

* * *

 _One hour later..._

Bunny Hug had been told that there was no reason to fear Ricochet's deputy—compared to any other coyote in the west, he was the complete opposite of that. He was sweet, courteous, and a nice person to be around.

That niceness wasn't what she was seeing right now. For a few seconds, she couldn't help but feel unbridled terror as she locked eyes with him. He was sweeping around the office, taking care of the chores like Ricochet had asked him to earlier…and giving her the most chilling glare she'd ever received from anybody. In that glare was an unspoken vow: "If you do anything to hurt him, you're gonna deal with me."

"Bunny Hug?" Ricochet asked, looking over at her with unease in his eyes. "Everythin' okay?"

"O-Oh, sorry 'bout that, Ricky-poo," she answered. Finally tearing her eyes from Droop-a-Long, she turned to face him, forcing a smile onto her face. "I didn't mean to ignore ya."

Ricochet turned to face his deputy, who suddenly regained a keen interest in his work, sweeping furiously. "Uh-huh," he muttered. He turned back to his ex-girlfriend, who was trying her best to not fidget. "Well, now, regardin' our…relationship…" He looked up at her in surprise. "Do ya really wanna try this again? I mean, after what happened with Slapjack-"

"Oh, don't mention him, Ricky-poo," Bunny Hug replied. Her red eyes were full of disappointment. "I figured I'd be able to change him with my peaceful ways, but he ended up runnin' off with an outlaw queen. I haven't heard from 'im since."

"People like Slapjack don't change, Bunny Hug," he said.

Her ears fell. "For a moment, I thought he did," she said. "For a year, I was fine with bein' alone, as it helped me move on from him. But now I'm feelin' a little lonely…an' the first person I think of when I'm lonely is you." She smiled sadly. "Reckon I'm askin' for too much, askin' for a second chance. After all, I left you first."

"I admit, I was sore over that," Ricochet said. "But I've since gotten over it. What's in the past stays in the past, as I like to say." He paused and turned to face his deputy. "I don't hear ya sweepin' over thar, Droop-a-Long."

"O-Oh, uh, sorry, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said, turning back around and sweeping again. "I got lost in my own thoughts."

"Uh-huh," Ricochet said. He turned back to Bunny Hug with a small smile on his face. "Sorry 'bout that; he's usually not this spacey."

"I see," Bunny Hug said. She stood up from her chair. "You don't mind if we take this outside, do ya?"

"Sure. We've been sittin' here for an hour or so," Ricochet said. "Jus' let me leave some instructions for my deputy first."

 _Good, 'cause I can't stand bein' in the same room with his deputy for another hour_ , Bunny Hug thought. "Alright, Ricky, I'll wait for ya outside on the porch." She sent him a smile before hurrying out of the office, not even looking at Droop-a-Long.

No sooner had she left the room than Ricochet turned towards Droop-a-Long with a small glare. "What is it with ya, Droop?"

"What're you talkin' about, Mr. Ricochet?"

"You know what I'm talkin' about! Why're you glarin' at her like that? Even I could feel it on my back!" he hissed. His front deepened. "I knew you weren't too happy about her comin' here earlier, but if you're gonna be hostile-"

"It ain't that, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long interrupted. "I'd never be hostile to a ladyfriend, 'specially if she's yers."

"Then what's with the attitude, Droop-a-Long?" Ricochet demanded.

"It's just...well, I was warnin' her."

"Warnin' her?"

"Yeah, makin' sure that she ain't gonna do somethin' like what she did before," Droop-a-Long replied. "I remember how sore ya were over her leavin' you to marry that Slapjack feller, an' seein' you like that makes me mad." A rare serious expression crossed the coyote's features as he looked at Ricochet. "I wouldn't tell 'er myself, since it's rude ta harm a lady, but if she even thinks of breakin' your heart again, I'll have some choice words for her."

Ricochet's frown disappeared and he stared at Droop-a-Long in surprise. "Droop-a-Long, ya don't have to do that-"

"Ricochet, you're like a brother ta me," Droop-a-Long said. "An' brothers look out for each other—'specially with relationships. I'm not against ya tryin' it again with Bunny Hug, but I don't want her doin' anything to hurt ya."

Ricochet sighed. It wasn't that he didn't see what Droop-a-Long was saying, and he was rather touched by the fact that the coyote was looking out for him, but on the other hand… "Droopy, I appreciate the thought, but ya know…jus' because I've had one bad romance-"

"One?" Droop-a-Long questioned.

"Okay, _a few_ ," Ricochet admitted. "But jus' because I've had several bad romances doesn't mean every single girl is bad. I'm willin' to give Bunny Hug another chance, an' besides, you yourself said that I need ta get out thar more."

"Well, that is true," Droop-a-Long said.

"I'd do the same for you, too, Droop, if you'd had the same amount of relationships that I've had," Ricochet said. "But right now, let me handle this. I'll decide if I wanna keep datin' her or not."

"Alright, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet turned to face the doorway, but then he paused, and turned back to Droop-a-Long. "Oh, and word of advice—ya may wanna tone down that glare, Droop," he said. "Otherwise, she'll be scared of ya."

"Got it, Mr. Ricochet," Droop-a-Long said. He gave the rabbit a small smile. "Good luck."

"Thanks, Droopy," Ricochet said as he made his way out. He couldn't help but mentally add, _I'll need it, too, what with you around._

 **The End  
**

* * *

 _ **Although this was a short story, I'm thinking of bringing Bunny Hug into the story for a bit...but don't be fooled, I haven't forgotten about Melissa. :) There are a few changes from the original short story I posted, but I didn't feel the need to add anything else, hence why this chapter's so short.**_

 _ **Oh, and p**_ _ **rotective Droop-a-Long is best Droop-a-Long. I figured Droop-a-Long wouldn't be too keen on ricochet going back with the girl who left him for an outlaw, so I think he'd warn her in his own way...although he ended up scaring Bunny Hug and making Ricochet mad in the process XD  
**_

 _ **I can't be sure which of my half-finished chapters is going to be the next one, since I have so many. And of course I don't have a specific order for how these are supposed to go yet. I'm still working on an official timeline for everyone, including characters who haven't even appeared yet. I won't post it on the wiki until it's done, but if you're interested I'll send you a link so you can see the histories for these guys.**_

 _ **Reviews would be awesome on this!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	26. Short 26: Just Like This

**A/N:** I was reading through some platonic prompts and found a few sentence starters, and I immediately got hit with the idea to write some BroTP fluff. This wasn't supposed to be the first time Rose appears but hey, you've gotta write what's in your head, right?

And this is kinda like a peace offering to Vulaan Kulaas, who I know is pretty peeved at me for disappearing on her...sorry buddy ^^; *turns and runs like the wind*

Warning: major fluffy feels ahead!

 **Disclaimer:** I still don't own Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long. And this time around, Vulaan Kulaas owns Rose (Ricochet's deceased sister mentioned in _Powerful Friendship, Iron Bond_ ) and I own Betty and Rodney (Droop-a-Long and Ricochet's siblings, respectively).

* * *

 **Story 26: Just Like This**

 _Inspired by: "Don't get up. I'm comfortable like this."_

 _Every time lightning streaked across the sky, Ricochet's heart skipped a beat. He dove under the covers, curling into a small ball. The crash of thunder that followed made him yelp in terror, but he quickly calmed himself down. What was he scared of? He was a Ricochet, wasn't he? His dad and his granddaddy weren't scared of thunderstorms. And if his great-granddaddy saw him now, he'd probably laugh, the wiry old scudder._

 _And if they didn't laugh at him, his older brothers probably would. So he'd have to suck it up and deal with it._

 _A louder thunderclap shook his resolve. There was only one person who'd hear him at this time of night. "R-Rose?" he croaked out. The rumbling of the thunder afterwards sent him shuddering. "R-Rose, where are ya?!" The room went bluish white from under his covers and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering._

 _"_ _I'll be right there, Ricky!" There was a series of footsteps coming from down the hall, and then the door to his room opened. He didn't have to look up to see his sister; she was probably there in her yellow nightgown, her ears tied into a ball on her head and holding a candle. He saw the light brighten as she came closer, before setting it on the drawer. The covers were lifted, and he found himself looking into her comforting blue eyes. She gave him a small smile. "Can't sleep?"_

 _"_ _N-No…"_

 _"_ _What do you think?" His older brother, Rodney, snarled from under the covers. "His cryin's keepin' me awake!"_

 _"_ _Don't listen to him," Rose said softly, pulling the covers off of Ricochet's head. "I'll stay with you 'til the storm ends."_

 _Despite himself, Ricochet smiled. "Thanks, Rosie," he murmured._

 _"_ _Good," Rodney mumbled from under the covers. "At least_ one _of us'll get some sleep around here."_

 _"_ _Shut up," Ricochet shot back, glaring at his brother's form from under the covers. Rodney's only response was to groan and bury himself in his pillow._

 _"_ _I told you, don't mind him," Rose replied. She then positioned herself on Ricochet's bed, leaning against his pillows, and patted her lap. "Come on."_

 _Ricochet did, climbing into his sister's arms and then nestling against her chest. He started briefly when he heard more thunder, but Rose simply pulled him closer to her, and he settled slightly. "Rose?"_

 _"_ _Hmm?"_

 _"_ _You think I'm a wimp, don't ya?"_

 _She chuckled. "Now why would I think that, Ricochet?" she asked._

 _"_ _W-Well, look at me! I'm scared of thunderstorms, I can't handle Rodney, an' you an' the others do better than me!" he said. "And I cry a lot, too…"_

 _He felt rather than saw her smile. "I don't think you're a wimp, Ricochet," she said._

 _"_ _What do you think I am, then?"_

 _"_ _I think you're normal, just like anybody else," she said. "Everyone's scared of something. Pa used to fear snowstorms an' I remember Great-Granddaddy Ricochet feared scorpions."_

 _"_ _Huh…w-well, what about you?"_

 _"_ _Me? I hate snakes. Rodney still scares me into thinking there's one in our room, you know," she said._

 _"_ _Hmm…but still…" Ricochet paused as another rumble of thunder filled his ears._

 _"_ _Of course, I could let you go now so you can prove that you're not a wimp," Rose said, a mischievous glint in her eye._

 _"_ _N-No way!" Ricochet replied, locking his arms around her. "You promised ya'd stay, an' you're goin' to!"_

 _"_ _Oh, alright," she chuckled._

 _Thankfully, the thunder started to peter out slightly, leaving only the sounds of the rain. Distant rumbles still came here and there, but Ricochet was already starting to nod off, taking in her warmth. His sister's comfort could drive away anything, even scary thunderstorms._

 _"_ _You ready to go to sleep now, Ricky?" she asked._

 _"_ _Don't set me down yet," he said. "I'm fine…just like this, Rosie."_

 _If it were any of his other siblings, they'd still shove him off. But Rose's response was to smooth out the fur on the back of his head and smile. "Goodnight, Ricky," she said softly._

 _He smiled back and then settled for nestling against her. "'Night, Rosie…"_

* * *

Ricochet awoke slowly, and attempted to sit up, only to find that he was being carried. He squirmed, trying to get his bearings in the dark. "W-What the-"

"M-Mr. Ricochet, did I wake ya?"

Ricochet settled with a sigh. "Oh, it's just you, Droop-a-Long," he muttered. "And no, you didn't wake me, I was just-" He paused as he realized what was going on, as he was facing the ground behind his deputy. "W-Why are you carryin' me, anyway?"

"You fell asleep at yer desk. Figured I'd take ya to your room. And this was the easiest way to carry ya since you'd hit yer head against the wall if I carried ya sideways," Droop-a-Long answered, opening the door to his room. "Hope ya don't mind."

"No, I don't mind it. Thanks," he said.

"No problem. You was workin' since four this mornin', of course you're tired," Droop-a-Long said. "Reckon you were in the middle of a really good dream, weren't ya?"

"…yeah," Ricochet said, a wan smile on his face. He was starting to feel sleepy again even as he said it. "I sure was. I was dreamin' 'bout my sister, Rose."

Droop-a-Long stopped in his tracks, and then looked at him from the side. "Ricochet, normally it hurts ya to think about her…"

"Not every memory I have of her is bad, Droop. This dream…I think it's 'cause it's rainin' outside, but I dreamt of a time when Rose held me like this. When I was a kid, I used to be scared of thunderstorms, but Rose would always calm me down by holdin' me in her arms," he said. He smiled and he closed his eyes. "I used to make her stay in my room 'cause she was so warm, I never wanted her to leave."

"Awww," Droop-a-Long replied, his mouth twitching to form a smile. "Betcha you're feelin' right warm and comfortable now, huh?"

"Mmhmm…" Ricochet heard Droop-a-Long move the covers aside, but he didn't feel like moving. "You're kinda like her in that regard, Droop…you're real warm…"

Droop-a-Long heard the drowsiness in Ricochet's voice and sat on the bed. "I'll set ya down now, Mr. Ricochet," he said.

"Mm…not yet, Droopy," Ricochet mumbled, wrapping his arms around his shoulders tightly. "Don't set me down yet. I'm fine…jus' like this."

Droop-a-Long wanted to set him down regardless, but he felt the strength in that squeeze. The light snoring that followed told him that Ricochet wasn't planning on moving any time soon. He sighed, but smiled. He settled into Ricochet's bed, putting his feet on the baseboard and draping the covers over them both, and then removing his hat and setting it on his nightstand.

It was odd seeing a clingy Ricochet, but Droop-a-Long felt that he understood where the rabbit was coming from. His little sister, Betty, did the same thing when she was little, coming into his room often during snowstorms or whenever wolves were out. She'd claimed the same thing that Ricochet had said, that he was the warmest person she'd known.

 _Reckon this is what they call déjà vu, or whatever it is that Mr. Ricochet says,_ Droop-a-Long thought. Either way, he didn't find it that weird that Ricochet was doing this. It wasn't the first time the sheriff had come to him for comfort.

"Goodnight, Ricochet," Droop-a-Long muttered, petting him behind the ears.

A shove of his arm away, followed by Ricochet shifting to rest his head against his chest, told him that the sheriff wasn't as sound asleep as he thought.

"…nice try, Droop-a-Long."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **I've been writing a lot of fluffy stuff for Blazin' Trails lately...**_

 ** _Not sure what the next chapter will be, since I have quite an impressive backlog of chapters (a few of which I need to finish), but I know that this story will probably be updated sporadically since I'm trying to focus on a few other stories that I have to do-and a few things on my profile that I need to clean up._**

 ** _And by the way, Rodney is one of Ricochet's older siblings; in this universe, Rose is older than Rodney by two years. Did I forget to mention that in the Blazin' Trails universe, he's got eleven brothers and sisters? Yeah...whenever Lucky shows up, he's not going to have a shortage of uncles and aunts :D_**

 ** _But anyway, I hope that this super fluffy chapter satisfies a few of you!_**

 ** _Reviews are great as always!_**

 ** _God bless, iheartgod175_**


	27. Short 27: I've Got Your Back

**A/N:** This chapter's inspired by a scene in an RP between me and Vulaan Kulaas. All I can say is poor Droop-a-Long. :(

 **Disclaimer:** I think it goes without saying that I don't own Ricochet and Droop-a-Long!

* * *

 **Story 27: I've Got Your Back**

"Halt, in the name of the law!" Ricochet yelled, drawing his gun on the outlaw.

The outlaw in question, who had two sacks of gold under his arm, turned and fired with his other hand. Ricochet dove for the ground, and prepared to return fire as the man took off.

A howl of agony stopped him short. Eyes widening, he whirled around to see his deputy topple over like a tree. He clutched his upper left leg, hissing in pain.

 _"_ _Droop-a-Long!"_

"Well, that's one of ya down for the count!" the outlaw laughed, and dust flew in Ricochet's face as he made his getaway on horseback, not even looking back to see the sheriff's look of utter rage.

Ricochet was half tempted to run after him, to rope him in with one of his Lariet bullets, and for a split second he also thought of knocking that guy's teeth out. But seeing Droop-a-Long on the ground overrode his anger…for now at least. "Hang on, Droop-a-Long!" Snarling back a curse, he ran over to his deputy, inspecting him to see how bad he was shot. The bullet was in deep, and if not handled quickly, Droop-a-Long would lose his leg for his trouble. Ricochet quickly pulled off Droop-a-Long's neckerchief and tied it around his leg to stop the bleeding.

"R-Ricochet," Droop-a-Long gasped, grunting as Ricochet tied the bandage tight around his leg.

"Don't worry, Droop. Let me handle this," Ricochet answered softly. His voice is calm, but one could easily pick up the strain in his voice, the anger that's threatening and struggling to explode to the surface.

"T-The outlaw's gettin' away," Droop-a-Long said. "He's got three thousand dollars in gold, Mr.- _aah_!" Pain raced up his injured leg, for he'd made the mistake of trying to stretch it.

"Sit still" Ricochet admonished. "Don't worry about that outlaw, I'll handle 'im later. Can ya stand, Droop?"

"N-Not without help, I'm afraid."

"Here, I'll help ya."

It took a little bit of effort, but Ricochet got Droop-a-Long to his feet. He helped him walk inside the office and directed him to a chair. "Sit here, Droop, and whatever you do, don't move yer leg."

Droop-a-Long nodded, gnawing at his lip. Ricochet walked over to his desk, rummaging through his drawer for a needle and thread, and then in the kitchen area for a knife. "Good thing I heated the stove earlier for coffee," he murmured, opening the door to the stove and sticking the knife in. When he heard Droop-a-Long groan in pain, he added, "Hang on, Droop. This'll be done in a few."

A few moments later, Ricochet carefully removed the hot knife, and walked back into the office where Droop-a-Long was waiting. Droop-a-Long looked over at Ricochet, and he swore he saw sweat break out on the coyote's face. "M-Mr. Ricochet, can't ya let Doc Johnson take care of that?"

"I'm afraid not. He's not in town this week. Luckily I know my way around cleanin' bullet wounds." Ricochet pulled out a small stool and sat next to Droop-a-Long's leg. Setting the knife down on the makeshift table, he undid Droop's necktie and tossed it to the floor. He sighed. "I'm not gonna sugarcoat it for ya, Droop...this is gonna hurt. I want to get this outta your leg as quickly as possible, but if you move, you'll get burned. So I want ya to stay absolutely still. Can ya do that for me?"

Droop-a-Long swallowed nervously, but he nodded. "Y-Yessir, Mr. Ricochet."

"Alright, I'm gonna get the bullet out, and then I'll have to stitch you up, okay?"

"O-Okay..."

"Alright," Ricochet breathed. "I'm gonna start now."

Holding Droop-a-Long's thigh, he pressed the hot knife into the bullet wound, carefully moving around until he reached the bone. Droop-a-Long let out a long groan of pain, squeezing the arm rest of the chair to keep himself from jerking away, and then screamed as Ricochet edged the tip of the knife into the bone to get to to the bullet, sending hot pain into his bones.

"Just a little bit longer, Droop..." Ricochet replied, sweat beading his brow. The sight of the wound and the smell of burning flesh made him feel ill, but he couldn't falter, not now. Any wrong move and he'd cause his deputy more pain than necessary. He tightened his grip on Droop-a-Long's leg when the coyote let out a longer, agonizing shriek, squeezing the armrest so hard it cracked. "Just a little longer..."

A few seconds later, he brought out the blood-covered bullet-a lead one, by the looks of it, he mused-and placed it and the knife in a white cloth. Droop-a-Long relaxed, but just slightly.

"Easy, Droop," Ricochet said, taking another cloth, dabbing it in some water and padding the blood around the wound. "Now, I want ya to stay still while I stitch you up."

Droop-a-Long sniffled, but he nodded, his trembling lip showing how hard he was fighting back. That desire for revenge came back, but he held it back for Droop's sake. "It's gonna be okay. It'll be over before ya know it," he said, taking the needle and inserting the thread through its eye. "Just hold still..."

With that, Ricochet began stitching Droop-a-Long up, doing each stitch individually. Thankfully, Droop-a-Long didn't scream as loudly as he had before, but when Ricochet glanced up briefly at him, he saw his trembling arm. He returned to his work, noting that the wound was almost closed. "Two more, Droop. You'll be okay after this."

"M-Mm-hmm..."

Since he was doing the stitches individually, it took a little longer, but it was the simplest form he knew. When he was done, he let out a low breath, and Droop-a-Long shuddered some more, pausing in random jerks due to the pain in his leg. Ricochet looked down at his hands and shirt, noting that they were bloodstained.

"Good thing that's over with," he said. "I'm gonna clean up, an' then I'll get you somethin to help you relax. You want anythin'?"

There was a long pause, and then Droop-a-Long asked softly, "Y-Ya got that peanut brittle, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Yeah. I'm surprised ya still eat that stuff. Hoop 'n Holler's shatters yer teeth," he replied. "I'll get the container." Removing the bloody bowl and the rags, he went for the kitchen area and poured out the water followed by cleaning off the knife and then tossed the bloody rags in the metal basin they used for washing clothes. The bullet, however, was kept in a small bag. He'd keep this as evidence for when he caught that crook.

With that in mind, he washed his hands, walked into his room, took off his shirt and put on one of his favorite vests-a green one with red stars decorating it. He slid it on and then walked into the kitchen to get the container of peanut brittle for Droop-a-Long. He didn't open it, for the smell of peanut butter alone made his head hurt.

"Alright, Droop, here's-" He stopped when he saw tears running down Droop-a-Long's neck. His mind flashed to Droop-a-Long's reaction from earlier, and he set the peanut brittle down.

Droop-a-Long looked at him quizzically. "What is it, Mr. Ricochet?" he asked. He paused, and then felt the wetness on his neck, as if he'd just now realized he was crying. He chuckled. "Heh, t-that's weird. I wasn't cryin' a minute ago-"

His sentence was cut off when Ricochet jumped up on the chair and tackled him into a hug, so suddenly they almost fell out of the chair together. After readjusting the chair so they didn't fall backwards, Droop-a-Long looked at him like was out of his mind. "Mr. Ric-"

"For the love of everythin', if somethin's botherin' ya, _tell me about it_ ," Ricochet replied. The last four words were said in a ragged tone, a tone that Droop-a-Long recognized as a plea. "You don't have to be strong for my sake, Droopy."

Whatever Droop-a-Long had been about to say died on his lips. He slouched in the chair and sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ricochet..."

"I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"

"It's kinda dullin' a bit. B-But that's only part of the reason," Droop-a-Long said. "I-I got ta thinkin' that iffin' I'd been more careful, we would've gotten that feller. You lost the case an' it's all my fault."

"It wasn't your fault, Droop," Ricochet replied. "An' I don't want ya thinkin' it is, either."

"But ya have to track 'im down now, since I got hurt," Droop-a-Long answered. "You could've left me behind, that way you-"

 _"No,"_ Ricochet interrupted. "I'd never do that. Even if that guy was one of the worst criminals to run into, I'd never do that."

"But-"

"Droop-a-Long, you know me," Ricochet started, looking up at him finally. His narrowed eyes carried steely resolve. "I'm not like that other sheriff who said 'I've got other deputies' when his deputy died. I didn't leave my other deputies behind, and I sure as heck wouldn't leave you." When he didn't answer, he finished with, "I've told ya again an' again-no matter what happens, no matter what you do, I've got your back. An' that also means not leavin' ya behind."

"Mr. Ricochet..."

"So don't get to thinkin' that everythin' would've been fine if I left you behind," Ricochet said. "And don't get to thinkin' that it's your fault he got away. He'll get his due, but in time." He hugged him tighter. "Ya don't have to feel guilty for somethin' ya didn't do."

Droop-a-Long hugged him at last. "T-Thanks, Mr. Ricochet...ya don't know how happy that makes me feel..."

"I can kinda tell," Ricochet replied.

"...that reminds me, are you okay, Ricochet?" Droop-a-Long asked, pulling away from him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why're ya askin'?" Ricochet asked, getting down from the chair.

"Ya looked shook up when you were workin' on me..."

Ricochet stopped in his tracks, and although he had his back to Droop-a-Long, his ears were lowering. "Well, I've seen worse things, but..." He sighed as he turned around to face him. "If there's anythin' I hate, it's seein' the people I love in pain. It riles me up, an' it breaks me at the same time. I know it's not my fault that you're hurt, but...even when I was treatin' your wound, I felt like I was hurtin' you even more."

"Ricochet..."

"I'm glad that I got the bullet outta ya, but I'm not lyin' when I say I hope I never have to do that again," Ricochet answered. "It's tough doin' it on yer own self, but..."

"Well...I'm glad that I have a friend who knows a lot 'bout guns an' how to treat wounds," Droop-a-Long said. He didn't want Ricochet to dwell on it for long; goodness knows he'd only spiral into a deep, dark depression over this. "Iffin' ya hadn't, things would've been a lot worse. So thank ya, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet looked up at him and a small smile came across his face. "I appreciate that, Droopy," he said, and then handed him the container of peanut brittle. "So, how about we treat ourselves to some sweet snacks, huh?"

"...But ain't you-"

"An' if you even think of mentionin' my diet, I'll clock ya in the head."

"...Never even crossed my mind."

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **This little short should get me back into the mood for RPing stuff again ^^**_

 _ **I did read that most of the time, the whole "we have to get the bullet out" that's so common in Westerns can sometimes have fatal consequences in real life. Well...in the case of Droop-a-Long, he probably would've had long-lasting leg pain if he left it there, making his movements even slower and more painful, hence why Ricochet had to get it out. I also did a little research to see what kind of stitches there were, and went with the simple interrupted stitch because it's the easiest one (and because I didn't want to see anymore open wound pictures). Poor Droop-a-Long, though; he's very sensitive to pain, but he tried to be strong for Ricochet's sake so he wouldn't worry about him.**_

 _ **I do have a couple of other stories I want to try to update before the year's over, but I can't guarantee which one it'll be. I do know that one of the first updates for the new year will be Fiery Heart, Broken Soul. And since I'm gonna be starting my winter term next week, I'll try to get get cracking on some stories (including a short one or two) that I want to publish before the year is over.**_

 _ **Anyway, I hope you liked this story, and consider it a (semi-late) Christmas present!**_

 _ **God bless, iheartgod175**_


	28. Short 28: Solemn Oath, Sworn Duty

**A/N: I bet you thought I forgot about my longest running story, didn't you? :P**

Well, here I am, with some more _Blazin' Trails_ stuff. And this one is Vulaan Kulaas' fault, since she wanted an angsty chapter for the next chapter. So, here you go, buddy! :) I figured that since Ric got the spotlight for most of the chapters, it'd be cool to do a Droop-a-Long centered story, although our favorite long-eared sheriff's still going to have a role in it.

 **Disclaimer** : I still don't own Ricochet Rabbit and Droop-a-Long, folks. Just more OCs again ^^

* * *

 **Story 28: Solemn Oath, Sworn Duty**

"Hey, Droop-a-Long, are you in here?" Ricochet called, walking inside the office.

"Comin', Mr. Ricochet. I'm just cleanin' a few guns in the back," Droop-a-Long answered. "And don't worry, I'm not usin' soap and water this time around."

"That's good to hear," Ricochet answered. He walked over to his deputy and handed him a telegram. "This came in for ya today."

"Wonder who it could be from," Droop-a-Long murmured, opening the telegram. "I don't get mail from anyone other 'n Denise." His mouth dropped open in surprise. "Oh, wow, it's from my ma..." He paused as he read the rest of the message and swallowed hard, his mouth setting into a small line. "Oh...shucks, I plumb forgot about that..."

Ricochet turned to his deputy in surprise. Droop-a-Long wasn't one to suddenly change moods like that, so something was up. "Forgot what, Droop?"

Droop-a-Long looked up at him. "Ricochet, is it alright if I took the next few days off? I have somethin' important I have to do," he said.

Ricochet blinked. He hadn't expected that. "Is it an emergency, Droop-a-Long?"

"Yeah. My family wants me back in Shadybrook for a memorial service that's bein' held this week," the coyote said. "It's for a neighbor of mine who died years ago when I was a boy."

"Oh...I'm sorry to hear that, Droop-a-Long. Well, of course you can take a few days off for that," Ricochet said. "I'd be right heartless if I didn't let ya. Jeb can help me with a few of yer duties."

"Thanks, Mr. Ricochet. An' it's okay," he replied.

"You sure you'll be okay?"

Droop-a-Long gave his friend a small smile. "I'll be fine, Mr. Ricochet. This isn't the first one I've been to."

"Mm-hmm..." Ricochet sat in his chair, although he couldn't help but get the feeling that there was more to the story than what Droop-a-Long was telling him. "Hey, Droop-"

In the time it took him to turn around, Droop-a-Long had already left.

* * *

Droop-a-Long sighed as he sat on his bed, the telegram in his hand. "Twenty years since then, huh?" he muttered, reading through the telegram. He frowned. "It's been twenty years since then an' I'm no closer to keepin' my promise."

He closed his eyes, memories filtering through his head. It wasn't that he had no happy memories of his hometown; quite the opposite, to tell the truth. But the bad ones stuck out like a sore thumb. He still remembered the day when the sheriff of the town was murdered by a passing gang in broad daylight. He remembered the first time his brother and his no-good friends committed vandalism. He remembered the day his brother had left town, claiming that the next time he came back, he'd bring nothing good with him.

And he remembered the day his best friend died.

He wiped his eyes, which were burning with tears. "Iffin' I'd done somethin'...I-I could've saved 'im," he muttered.

"Droopy?"

Droop-a-Long's head snapped upwards to see Ricochet standing there, a glass of lemonade in his hand. He looked concerned. "I was comin' in to offer ya some lemonade...but you look like ya need somethin' stronger right about now," he said.

"Aw, ya know I don't drink much, Mr. Ricochet...that's kinda yer style," Droop-a-Long answered, trying to keep his voice light.

"You don't have to fake in front of me, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet said, setting his glass into Droop-a-Long's hand. "I get it if ya don't want to tell me, but I don't think cryin' alone's gonna help."

Droop-a-Long stared into his cup, and then looked at Ricochet. "You remember when we first met, right, Mr. Ricochet?"

"Of course I do! I wouldn't forget somethin' like that!"

"You remember when I talked to ya after you woke up in the hospital, when I said why I wanted to be a deputy?" Droop-a-Long continued.

"Hmmm...I remember you sayin' you wanted to leave your hometown an' explore," Ricochet replied, scratching his chin. He sat next to his deputy on the bed. "Was there somethin' else?"

"Yeah. I didn't tell ya since I didn't think ya'd care back then, 'cause you didn't take to me at first," Droop-a-Long said, averting his eyes upon seeing Ricochet wince. "But there's another reason I wanted to become a sheriff...but it's kinda hard to explain. I-I haven't told anyone, not even my pa about it, 'cause he was the one dead set against me bein' a sheriff...or your deputy for that matter."

"It's alright, Droop-a-Long. I'm not goin' to shame ya or anythin' for it," Ricochet answered. "I shared some of my darkest secrets with you. Reckon if you need to get it off your chest, you can tell me."

Droop-a-Long nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Ricochet." He sighed shakily. "You know how sometimes I say that you're my only best friend? Well...that's not really true."

"I know that. You made friends with Jeb."

"Well, I haven't been really honest. The reason I say that is 'cause I lost my best friend," Droop-a-Long said.

"What was his name?"

"His name was Jacob," Droop-a-Long answered. "Everyone called 'im Jakey, so I did too. Thing was, he was human. In Shadybrook, humans are kinda wary of us, so even though there are humans that own the shops, they live separate from us, i-in another part of town. Jacob's family, though, ended up livin' at our neighbor's old place. Although we were supposed to avoid each other like usual, I ended up helpin' him out when he was chased outta the baseball field by some of the older coyotes." Droop-a-Long gave a small smile. "Well, I didn't get away unhurt, but I think after that he warmed up to me."

"Come ta think of it, that's kinda how you made friends with me," Ricochet said. "Not to mention Denise, too, before she became your girl."

"Y-Yeah," Droop-a-Long replied, smiling nervously, like he always did when he talked about Denise. He cleared his throat. "Well, after that, we slowly started becomin' friends, an' through that, my parents started to warm over to them too. We always saw each other every day of the week, but Sunday was our favorite day."

"How come?"

"Well, durin' the week, there's no time to really have fun. An' like I said, humans an' coyotes usually don't mix in Shadybrook. But the one day that nobody really fusses or fights with each other is on Sunday, 'cause on that day, everyone goes to church an' gets to talk to each other," Droop-a-Long replied.

"That's the only day?" Ricochet asked, incredulous.

Droop-a-Long scratched his chin. "From what my pa told me, the mayor did it as an...er, what's that word again...designated?" he said. "Yeah...he did it as a designated day for the townsfolk ta come together, or somethin' like that. It was kinda weird..."

"I'll say," Ricochet said. "So, on that day, that's the only day ya could talk to each other in public, right?"

"Yeah...like I said, it was my favorite day of the week," Droop-a-Long answered. "We'd go fishin' an' stuff afterwards, an' sometimes, my folks would cook dinner for 'em. We'd chat all night long an' everythin'."

"Sounds like ya had a lot of fun, huh?"

"Yeah..." Droop-a-Long's smile faded. "M-Mr. Ricochet...what I'm gonna say is kinda hard for me in explain, so..."

"Take your time, Droopy," Ricochet said. "You don't have to rush on my account."

"Thanks..." He took a deep breath, and sighed. "It happened when we came home from school one afternoon. The streets were empty, an' my ma was screamin' at me to get in the house. I didn't have time to do much 'fore I heard hooves on the dirt." He wrung his hands together. "I look over 'n that's when I see a gang ridin' in on these big horses. The leader had this huge black horse I ain't ever seen before or since. I grabbed Jacob's arm, an' dragged him up the steps...b-but that was when the leader turned to us with his gun drawn. Ma screamed, and I stood there, s-starin' at that gun..."

Ricochet leaned forward, his face filled with concern. "What happened next, Droop-a-Long?"

"N-Next thing I knew, I was shoved into my ma. An' then...there was a gunshot...a-an' Jacob, he crumpled to the floor, a bullet in his head. T-The leader laughed an' took off with all the gold," Droop-a-Long said. "I-I tried ta wake him up...but i-it was too late." He sniffled and wiped his nose. "I-It was too late..."

Ricochet stared at his friend, tears forming in his eyes. "Droop..."

"Pa told me Jacob s-saved my life. I-I would've been shot if he hadn't shoved me. T-That only made me feel worse," he said. "I-I thought it was my fault. I-I thought h-he died 'cause of me. P-Pa told me it wasn't, but I thought so for the longest time. D-Drag-a-Long made it worse, an'...a-an' I've never gotten over it."

Ricochet watched his deputy lose his composure. The story had brought up memories, memories of his older sister, Rose, when he was fifteen. The burning in his eyes intensified as he got down from his chair and hugged Droop-a-Long tightly. "I-I had no idea you'd gone through that, Droop-a-Long..."

"I-I also learned the sheriff had died, too. J-Jacob's killers were never brought ta justice," he said. "T-That's when I decided then and there that I would follow through with bein' a sheriff. I-I swore I would."

Ricochet released his friend. "You've always wanted ta be one?"

"Yeah. Y'see...Shadybrook always had crime, an' we had ta get a new sheriff every week 'cause he either died or quit." Droop-a-Long's expression was somber. "The longest sheriff we had was that feller; he was there for two weeks, an' my ma an' pa were gettin' hopeful."

Ricochet was shocked. He remembered hearing from Droop-a-Long's father, Drag-a-Long, Sr., that the crime rate was bad, but not to that level. It made their tenures in Gopher Gulch and Hoop 'n Holler look like child's play. "That's terrible, Droop-a-Long...no wonder you'd wanna be a sheriff," he said.

"Pa didn't like it, though. He didn't think that I could do it, but he also didn't want me to die. Drag-a-Long, though, told me I was too stupid."

"You're not stupid, Droop-a-Long. You're smarter than most people take you for," Ricochet said. He had a few more choice words for that, namely for Droop-a-Long's no-good brother, but he didn't want to go off on a rant. "I know that for a fact."

"Yeah...b-but for a while after that, I stopped thinkin' I'd be sheriff. I jus' settled for a regular job like everyone else," he said. Despite his sad tone, a small smile came on his face. "An' then I met you, Mr. Ricochet. You told me that you didn't think my dream was stupid. In fact, ya told me the only thing that's silly was me sayin' I'd never be able to do it. You encouraged me to go for it, even when we didn't really like each other much at first." He sighed. "When I swore to do my duty, I also swore to m'self that I'd work hard at becomin' a sheriff...and maybe one day, I could get justice for Jacob's killer."

"If that's your goal, then I'll stand behind you the whole way, Droop-a-Long," Ricochet answered. "I'd be a hypocrite if I stopped you from doin' somethin' like that. I became a sheriff not just because of my pa's work, but also because of my sister, bless her soul. You said that the memorial service is when?"

"This week-Saturday, from what my ma told me," Droop-a-Long said.

"Jeb and I will handle things while you're gone," Ricochet answered. "You can give your mama an' daddy, an' Jacob's mama an' daddy, my respects."

Droop-a-Long smiled. "Thanks, Mr. Ricochet."

Ricochet patted him on the shoulder. "No problem, Droop-a-Long."

* * *

 _Several days later..._

"Droopy?"

Droop-a-Long snapped to attention at the sound of his sister's voice. He turned to look behind him, and saw his mother and sister standing there, still in their mourning clothes from the memorial service. Betty wore all black, while his mother wore black and white with ribbons and lace. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

Droop-a-Long's frown deepened, and he walked over to his mother. "Ma, you don't have ta keep cryin'."

"T-That boy..." Selena wiped her eyes and sniffled. "H-He was a good kid. Those outlaws were the most heartless bunch'a men I've ever met."

"Yeah..."

"I thank the Lord everyday that you're still here," she said. "B-But still..."

Droop-a-Long said nothing, instead turning his eyes back to the grave.

Betty walked over to her older brother, putting a hand on his arm. Sorrow was present in her brown eyes. "You okay?"

"I-I thought I would be," he answered shakily, his eyes locked on the small wood marker in front of him.

"Pa figured you'd still be here, so that's why Ma an' I came ta get ya." Betty's eyes narrowed as she looked down at the grave marker. "I'm still mad 'bout what Drag-a-Long said to you. I'll never forgive him for it."

"I can't blame you," he replied. "Although sometimes, I think he's right. He would've been alive if'n I'd done somethin'."

"Now don't you get ta thinkin' that way." And then, his mother was right beside him, her dark green eyes blazing with conviction. "It's not your fault. An' nobody can say they would've run away if they'd seen somethin' like that."

"I know...an' I'm right lucky that I'm still alive," Droop-a-Long said. "But he still..."

His mother's gaze softened and she put her hands on his shoulders. "No matter what you think, you are here for a reason. You told everyone yourself that you wanted to be a great sheriff one day. You're not going to quit now, are you?"

Droop-a-Long shook his head. His mother patted his shoulders.

"Then don't get to talking like that. You're not a failure. And you're not a burden or anything like that. You did what you could do. But don't let what you _didn't_ do get to you."

Despite himself, Droop-a-Long smiled. "Thanks, Ma. I needed that."

She patted his shoulders. "It's alright. Now come on. We're going to Jacob's folks' place for dinner," she answered. "I think we should let Jacob be for now."

"Yeah..." Droop-a-Long turned to go, but not before giving the marker one last look. "You jus' wait, Jacob. I'll become a sheriff jus' like I told ya I would be. And when I do...I'm gonna find the outlaw who did this to you and bring him to justice."

With that vow, the three made their way back to Shadybrook, fighting back tears of sadness.

 **The End**

* * *

 _ **Finally, I have one chapter out of many done! Now it's on to some other fics *eyes I'll Never Abandon You and Sodor Magic Crusaders***_

 _ **Reading over some notes I wrote on the Blazin' Trails wiki is what brought about this idea, as well as some chatting between me and Vulaan Kulaas. In the original notes I had, witnessing a robbery-turned-murder is what drove Droop-a-Long to want to become a sheriff. Because his family didn't agree, especially his father and Drag-a-Long (although in Drag's case it was more like pure spite), he buried it, although he planned to do it anyway when he somehow left town. He told Ricochet that story about how he'd wanted to explore the rest of the state for this reason. Needless to say, Rick wasn't too happy that Droop-a-Long held this back, but he understood it, having lost someone close to him as well.**_

 _ **A part of the conversation between Droop and his mom was inspired by a conversation I had with Vulaan Kulaas a while back. She's been a super awesome and very helpful friend, giving me a push of encouragement and pep talks when I need it. It's always wonderful to have friends when you feel down. :)**_

 _ **I do have plans to introduce Droop-a-Long's family into the series, though. In fact, I do have another chapter that does formally introduce them, taking place in between "Breaker of Barriers" (namely before Droop becomes Ricochet's deputy). Betty and Droop-a-Long's mom are supposed to have major roles in that chapter, though, and I'm looking forward to writing them in that chapter, and future installments!**_

 _ **The next story to get updated will probably be one of the stories on my Writer To-Do List. I'm halfway done with Sodor Magic Crusaders' 15th chapter, stuck on I'll Never Abandon You, going back and forth with the Zula Patrol chapter, and I've put the Heroes of Time on hold due to news about KH3. And then I'm working on a couple of other stories, too, two of which are ones I haven't worked on in a while and also need to be finished. *sighs* I'll probably rotate stories whenever I finish with one chapter so I don't get too burned out.  
**_

 _ **Anyway, let me know what you think of this chapter! Until then, I'll see ya when my next update shows up!**_

 _ **God bless,**_

 _ **iheartgod175**_


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